


Enslaved by the A'dam

by KylixC



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: BDSM, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Orgasm Denial, Pain, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 04:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16509155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KylixC/pseuds/KylixC
Summary: Post-AMoL - Years after the last battle, an Asha'man is betrayed by his friend and sold to the Seanchan on the black market.Happy ending if you must know.





	1. Chapter 1

Years after Rand Al'Thor's cleansing of Saidin, someone in Seandar figured out how to make a male a'dam, putting to rest the empire's worries over the question of male channelers who would be free to run amok while female channelers remained collared. With the term sul'dam and damane used for millenia to describe the women, it was decreed by the Great Empress Fortuona that there be a change in names for males. Male leash-holders were called Morul'dam, while the male Leashed Ones were called damaro.

Part of the reason why it took so long to create a male a'dam was that the copies they had received from Suroth were flawed. They tried to pit two women against one man, and eventually the man could end up controlling his female sul'dam. It was eventually reasoned that the problem lay with the nature of women, since women had to surrender to embrace Saidar. That conflicted with - and more often than not, lost to - the male who had to take control to seize Saidin. It was concluded that only another male could control a male channeler completely.

The male a'dam worked much like the female version in practice. Damaro could not channel without the express permission of their Morul'dam, and they could not hurt their Morul'dam lest the pain be reflected back at them tenfold. Like for sul'dam, morul'dam could also sense the feelings and emotions of their damaro, and to add on to them. The male a'dam also forbade damaro to pick up weapons, or to use anything as a weapon. The mere thought of a weapon would send the damaro into convulsions of agony that would stop only when he stopped thinking about it.

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Halvate Toraeus fingered the silver collar in his hands as he waited in barely suppressed anticipation. Finally he would get a chance to prove himself in a final test - to capture a marath'damaro and to train him to obey. If he succeeded, he would be officially accorded the badge that marked a full morul'dam - two lightning forks tattooed down his forearms. Not for once he wondered if he ought to be worried that he was assigned enemy marath'damaro who already knew how to channel, rather than the usual poor farmboy who had just discovered he had accidentally called down lightning on his father's cows after one scolding too many. Marath'damaro could be impossible to train, and grown men would balk at being under the control of the young Halvate, who was only eighteen years old and looked disturbingly like a boy.

A couple of his companions from the academy waited with him - a young, dark-skinned woman who wore the dark blue dress of a sul'dam, and two men clad in the dark blue tunic and breeches of morul'dam. They were waiting for the delivery of the channelers who would be collared. Such was the nature of relations between Seandar and the other countries. Bound by the Dragon's Peace, Seandar could not attack other countries to harvest their crop of marath'damaro and marath'damane, but there would always be those who would be willing to hand over channelers to the Seanchan. More often than not the channelers were betrayed by their own fellow comrades for political gain. Halvate shook his head in disgust. Better for all channelers to be collared than for them to run about seizing power and causing chaos. Tar Valon, he heard, was a viper's nest of backstabbing and betrayal, with no order whatsoever. Andor, where the Black Tower was, was not much better. Tales had spread even to Seandar of black-coated men who used the Power indiscriminately to do whatever they wanted.

Halvate sat up abruptly on his horse as the orange glow of a lantern bobbed into view amidst the darkness of the night. His marath'damaro was here.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran Vinstone gritted his teeth until he thought he could hear them crack. He was trussed up like a prize pig, his hands and feet bound together, gagged and blindfolded so he couldn't see a single damn thing. His muscles ached from the long hours of being held in this position, and he was holding back a desperate need to pee. Joran didn't know where he was being taken to, only that he was lying down on the floor of a wagon with three other strangers who were similarly bound as he was. All of them were so dosed with forkroot that neither of them could channel. Oh, what he wouldn't give now to seize Saidin and open a gateway to Cairhien to burn that bastard Kieran he once called his best friend! Joran had been framed of a crime he did not commit, and in an instant had found himself shielded and tied up, then forced to gulp a whole pot of forkroot tea before he could even register his shock. He had stared at his smirking best friend in disbelief as the blindfold came down over his eyes. He had been warned time and time again by his friends that there was something not quite right with Kieran, but Joran had naively thought their friendship would prevail. It turned out Joran had been played for a fool, and would pay for it with his life. Did Kieran intend to have him brought to a secluded place and killed? If so who were these other strangers?

Joran grimaced as the wagon rolled over a bump and jolted his already full bladder. If the journey went on for much longer he was afraid he would have to soil himself rather badly. Imagine, the former Asha'man advisor to the High Seat of Saighan wetting himself like a baby! Joran grimly held on to his bladder. Even if he were to be killed he didn't want to give Kieran any more satisfaction than he could help.

Joran sighed in defeat. He could accept the betrayal from his best friend, but he hoped that Kieran had left his only son alone. The boy would still be training at the Black Tower. In fact he was to undergo his ordeal for the Asha'man next week. He would be protected in the Black Tower, but if he ventured to Cairhien alone.... 

The wagon abruptly stopped. Muffled voices could be heard outside, although Joran couldn't hear what was being said. Suddenly the wagon flap opened and he could hear people dragging the other prisoners out. He was the last one to be forcibly unloaded, and nearly lost control of his bladder as he was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. Someone ripped the blindfold off his head, and it took him a moment to adjust to the darkness barely lit by flickering torches. What he saw nearly stopped his heart.

A silver collar, linked by a silvery chain to a bracelet worn by a young man clad in a dark blue tunic.

Realization hit, and he began to struggle for real this time. His muscles bulged as he flexed his arms against his bonds, even as he scrabbled uselessly for the Source. Joran struggled so hard he didn't know that he was whimpering into his gag and bucking his body violently, nor was he aware of his three other fellow travelers doing the same thing. All he was aware of was the silver collar, and what it represented, drawing closer and closer, until it snapped around his neck with a click like an ominous sound of finality. Joran felt something wet trickle down his breeches. He had lost control at last.

Joran moaned in fear and denial. This was not happening! That blasted Kieran! Joran had been expecting to be killed, had even accepted it, but to be enslaved by the Seanchan, that was worse than being killed! Joran closed his eyes and bit his cheek hard, hoping against hope that it was all a dream. A sharp pain flared in his cheek, and he tasted blood. Not a nightmare then.

"Open your eyes," a voice commanded in an unmistakeably Seanchan drawl. Joran opened his eyes to look at light blue eyes flickering in the torchlight. He blinked. Surely that deep silky masculine voice did not belong to this young boy?

"I am Halvate, your morul'dam. From this moment on you are property of the Empress, may She live forever. What is your name?" The boy asked, undoing the gag in Joran's mouth.

Joran spat and snapped his head away. "Release me at once you filthy Seanchan dog!"

The boy - Halvate - tutted. "I can't stand bad manners in damaro. I will ask again - what is your name?"

Joran suddenly felt warm. Uncomfortably warm. He stared in defiance at his captor, unwilling to answer. The temperature suddenly ratcheted up several notches. Joran squirmed as sweat poured out of his pores. He shifted in discomfort as the temperature rose to just before scalding hot. Sweat was pouring from his body in waves now, utterly drenching his clothes.

Halvate raised an eyebrow as if in question.

Joran spat on the ground and swore.

The next instant Joran screamed as he felt his skin burning as though plunged into the hottest inferno. So intense was the heat that he thought he must have been cooked to a black crisp. It felt like eternity.

As quickly as it came, the heat receded. Joran gasped for air, feeling his body shudder uncontrollably. The air was cool again, but he still felt as though his nerves were on fire. He looked down at his body, surprised to find it unmarked.

Halvate crossed his arms in front of his chest and asked again. "What is your name?"

"J..Joran," Joran gasped out weakly.

"Good. That wasn't so hard was it. Now I'm going to untie you." Halvate bent down and with quick motions cut the ropes binding Joran's arms and legs.

Joran heaved a sigh of relief as his body was freed, but winced as his muscles immediately cramped. Halvate noticed it immediately and started massaging the cramps away. Joran looked up, uncertain of how to deal with this unexpected kindness.

"Thanks," Joran muttered gruffly as Halvate removed his hands. "You are my responsibility," Halvate replied curtly. "You will find that I do not punish unjustly, only when you have done something wrong." Joran grunted in disbelief. What was being forced into being damaro if not unjust? He thought about punching Halvate in his all too boyish face, but Halvate's act of kindness had thrown him off. Maybe he should wait for a chance to escape? He had heard stories of how hard the Seanchan punished their leashed ones.

Halvate tugged on the leash. "Come," he said. "It is time to return to Falme."


	2. Chapter 2

Halvate's face was a mask of impassivity, but on the inside his mind was in turmoil. He knew from the start that foreign marath'damaro could be troublesome, but this was still his first time being called a filthy Seanchan dog, and he didn't like it. The three others who were delivered together with Joran had reacted pretty much the same way. One of the marath'damaro had even punched his morul'dam, much to his own regret. Halvate knew that he couldn't simply expect these marath'damaro to fall over themselves and readily accept their new life instantly, but what a far cry they were from the docile, well-trained damaro in Seandar.

Even now Halvate could feel the rigid tension in Joran's body. He examined the ball of sensations in his mind that were Joran's. It seemed tension wasn't the only thing troubling Joran. Halvate could also feel that he was hungry, he felt a little dizzy from all the forkroot tea, and that he was walking most uncomfortably. Halvate turned his head to examine Joran again in the dim firelight, and saw a dark patch on his pants. He raised an eyebrow in wonder. Had the grown man wet his pants?

Joran must have noticed where Halvate was looking, for he blushed, then immediately assumed a belligerent demeanor, as if daring him to comment. Halvate shook his head. He would have to do something about that later.

They arrived where Halvate had picketed his horses. His year-mates followed behind, leading their own charges. The marath'damane was weeping inconsolably, much to her sul'dam's irritation, and one of the marath'damaro was hunched over as if he had been punched repeatedly in the stomach. Which he must have, for Halvate knew that his morul'dam liked to use gut punches as punishment. In contrast Joran was standing still and curiously silent, as if biding his time. Halvate wasn't sure if that was good or not.

He motioned to Joran's clothes. "Take those off. Normally we'll wait till we arrive at Falme before we change your clothes, but you've wet yourself. Wear this." Halvate pulled a long, gray sleeveless tunic out of his saddlebags.

He turned to find Joran staring at him in shock. Halvate frowned. Had his instructions not been clear enough? "Take off your clothes, now, and change into this. I will not repeat myself," Halvate warned sternly. He saw the shock fade from Joran's face, only to be replaced by anger. "Here? In front of everybody? I am not some.... some animal you can command about as you please! Get this collar off me now you bastard!" With a roar of fury Joran clenched his fist and threw a punch straight at Halvate's face.

Halvate reflexively dodged, but he allowed the punch to clip him on the cheek. It was high time Joran learned that he was not to disobey him, especially not in front of others.

The instant Joran's fist slid past Halvate's cheek, Joran gave a cry of pain and immediately slapped his other hand to his own cheek. Halvate smiled grimly. He only felt a mild stinging, but he knew that Joran would be feeling as if his face had been hit with a ton of bricks.

"The a'dam amplifies any pain that I feel and returns it to the damaro," Halvate explained patiently. "Even if you aren't the one to hurt me." Halvate massaged the bruise that was quickly forming on his own cheek. Joran gasped as though he was punched again. "You will never hurt your morul'dam, and it will only be to your own benefit to keep your morul'dam safe."

Halvate closed the gap between the two of them. He took out his belt knife and waved it at Joran. "Since you will not take off your clothes, I shall personally cut them off of you." Halvate pulled at Joran's tunic and lowered his knife, about to start cutting, when Joran's hand came out of nowhere to try to grab the knife.

He failed of course. Halvate looked down in irritation at the man who was on his knees clutching his hand and vomiting onto the ground. "You won't be able to touch a weapon without having that reaction. You will regain control of your hand in another hour." Halvate bent down and deliberately moved the knife closer to Joran's hand, eliciting a cry of pain and a renewed bout of heaving. "See what I mean?"

Halvate knelt down to cut a rip down Joran's tunic and shirt. This time Joran did not resist, even as Halvate cut off his breeches and loincloth in a swift motion. Halvate threw the cut-up cloth away, and tugged on the a'dam to get Joran to stand.

Halvate admired the older man as Joran stood up painfully. Joran's body was generously covered with a layer of dark hair, although they did nothing to obscure the outline of his bulging muscles. Joran looked to be in good shape, and appeared as though he was in his mid-twenties, although for a channeler he could be anywhere from twenty to a hundred years old. Looking down, Halvate suppressed a sigh of admiration. Joran had the largest cock he had ever seen, even hidden as it was in Joran's dark bush. He briefly wondered how long that cock could be when excited.

Halvate drew his thoughts away from that direction. He turned to pick up the long gray tunic, before a devious idea came to his mind. Yes, this would serve as a good punishment. Twisting the tunic into a rope, he wrapped it around his neck and said, "Anything can be a weapon. Even cloth." Halvate pulled at the ends of the rope to simulate strangling himself, then unrolled the tunic and offered it to Joran.

Joran looked confused as he tried to take the tunic, only to clutch at his hand and let out a yell of pain, before collapsing once more to his knees and heaving out the contents of his stomach. Not that he had anything left to vomit out.

Halvate smiled. It was perhaps childish, since he was supposed to train Joran, but Halvate could feel a dark pleasure at having gotten back at Joran for the insults he had offered. Halvate said sternly, "As long as you think of using something as a weapon, you will have that reaction. You have to consciously avoid thinking of anything as a weapon. As it is you will be unable to even touch cloth for the next three days."

Halvate grinned as a look of horror came over Joran's face. Yes, making the big man squirm in humiliation was strangely satisfying. Perhaps training a foreign marath'damaro could be fun after all.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran's mind was in turmoil. He felt as though he was standing outside his body looking in horror at what was happening to him. He couldn't even process what he was feeling. Fury, fear, embarrassment, disbelief, horror, all warred within his mind. And that was just in his mind. His body was a mass of aches from the position he had endured all night, and his hands.... he couldn't even feel his hands now. They had been seared with pain when he had tried to grab the knife, and later the tunic, but now they were just numb.

The thought of the tunic brought another wave of nausea, and Joran quickly directed his thoughts away. Was this how it was going to be? He couldn't even think of rebelling, unless he wanted to spend his life vomiting. Feeling the nausea fade away, Joran collected himself and looked around. Realization hit as he remembered that he was stark naked in front of all these Seanchan, who were smirking and giving him discreet glances.

Joran flushed a deep red. He wanted to throttle Halvate and all the bloody Seanchan with a tunic for doing this to him. Blast it! Joran cursed to himself as the nausea returned. He pushed those thoughts away, then clenched his fists and stood up slowly, staring straight at Halvate in defiance, unwilling to show how much his nakedness bothered him.

Halvate didn't seem perturbed. Joran wanted to fling his fist again at that cool, impassive boyish face, but he restrained himself, knowing the backlash it would induce on his own body.

A tug on the leash brought Joran back from his contemplation. Halvate asked, "Do you know how to ride a horse?" Joran wanted to spit at Halvate, but the slightest hint of his body heating up had Joran quickly answering, "Yes." Seeing the small smile on Halvate's lips, Joran belatedly realized that he was being trained. Oh bloody ashes! He felt a flash of anger at himself for succumbing so fast, but also a growing despair at how insidious the Seanchan's methods were.

"Good. Get on." So saying, Halvate swung himself onto his horse with expert grace. Joran stood gaping at the boy. "What's the matter?" Impatience marked Halvate's handsome features. Distracted, Joran was suddenly reminded of his son for a moment, even though they looked nothing alike. He was brought back again by a tug to his leash. "I am growing impatient, Joran. Get on the horse, now."

Joran clenched his fists in anger and embarrassment. "I... I cannot ride like this." He flushed as he gestured vaguely to his legs. A look of comprehension and amusement came over Halvate's face. "I see. We will only be moving at a trot. I will hold your reins. You can protect your balls with your hands," Halvate smirked.

Joran kept quiet as he swung himself into the saddle. He could feel eyes on his naked body, and it was all he could do not to look around. Unconcernedly he gripped the saddlehorn with one hand while the other gently cupped around his balls, as though he did it all the time. He heard a chuckle from Halvate but he was too embarrassed to even try to glare at him. At a signal from someone, another morul'dam, the Seanchan started moving off at a trot for Falme, bringing their unwilling captives with them.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride back to Falme was short. Covering his cock and balls gave him a modicum of privacy that Joran was thankful for, although he was still incensed and a little shocked by how the a'dam worked. He had studied it in the Black Tower, of course, all of the Asha'man did, but it was one thing to know dispassionately what it could do, and quite another to have it done to him.

He had learnt that escape was impossible, having been placed in an a'dam before, but then it was in a classroom in the Black Tower knowing it was just a lesson. Now he wondered if escape was indeed possible if one was desperate enough. As soon as the forkroot wore off Joran would try to draw enough of the Power to break the a'dam.

Throughout the ride he could hear sobs and whimpering from the captive woman, and cries of pain from the men. It appeared that the other two morul'dam were disciplining their damaro. Joran suddenly felt a wave of despair overtake him. Was this all he had to look forward to? He was already forty years old, even though he looked not a day older than twenty five, but because of channeling he had expected to live another three hundred years. But as a slave?

Joran's morose thoughts turned to Halvate. The morul'dam was silent, and not for the first time Joran wondered why the morul'dam wasn't doing anything. Joran took a sidelong glance at his captor. In the darkness of the night he could only make out a lean figure sitting on his saddle with obvious grace. He looked so young, even younger than his son Dorian. Joran's thoughts turned bitter. Would he ever see his son again? Did he even want him to see him in this state?

As if sensing his thoughts, Halvate turned to him and spoke, "Don't worry Joran, life as a damaro is comfortable and rewarding, as long as you follow the rules. The great Seanchan empire has been doing this for millenia - I would say even a large proportion of people envy the lives of damane and damaro. If you have a special Talent, you will be treasured even more." His baritone voice turned steely here. "Know however, that any disobedience will be swiftly and harshly punished." Joran felt a slight burning on his skin, although it died down quickly afterwards, much to his relief.

Instantly Joran felt a sickening dread come over him. Had he already been conditioned to avoid punishment? He was the fucking Asha'man advisor to the High Seat of Saighan! He had spent a decade and a half navigating the complex political games of Cairhien, and before that had battled his way through the internal power games in the Black Tower. Surely he could fight against this enslavement!

Halvate seemed to sense the rebellious thoughts again, for he turned once more to Joran, and this time there was none of the friendliness he had exuded before. In the darkness of the night Halvate's light blue eyes were cold. "I see that you need a distraction." No sooner had the words left his mouth that Joran felt an itch start in his butt. Joran clenched his butt muscles in reflex, but the itch was located somewhere inside his ass crack, and no amount of bouncing on the saddle could seem to reach it.

"Like it?" Halvate murmured again. Joran felt the itch spread, this time to his entire butthole, and his anus started twitching most uncomfortably. He gripped his saddlehorn hard, trying to fight the urge to reach down and scratch the damn itch. Imagine the image that would make! A naked man writhing on a horse with a hand deep inside his asscrack, his finger plunging away! Joran gripped his saddlehorn harder, trying hard not to give in to scratch the itch.

"I think if you can't ride you will most unfortunately have to run all the way to Falme," Halvate drawled.

Joran was starting to hate that silky baritone voice, but most of his mind was occupied on his now burning hole, and trying to control his horse which was starting to frisk in response to his constant shifting. He could feel himself slipping - already the hand that was cupping his balls was inching back towards his asscrack, as though to plunge a finger down there and scratch most vigorously -

"All you have to do is beg me, and it will reduce into a manageable itch. Enough for you to ride, in any case," Halvate smirked.

Joran gritted his teeth. He would not give in. He was more than twice the age of this upstart young boy, and if he hadn't been made powerless by the a'dam and the forkroot tea he would have burnt the boy up in an instant. He flailed futilely at Saidin, but he was cut off completely.

"Wrong decision, Joran."

Itch exploded up his asscrack and all over his cock and balls with an intensity and fury Joran had never experienced before. Joran's resistance crumbled instantly. With a cry Joran's hands flew at his asscrack and genitals, scrabbling over them helplessly. So overtaken he was by the incessant itch that he did not hear the chuckles of the other sul'dam and morul'dam at the image. He, a fully grown man, was bare-assed naked and thrusting a hand into his ass while the other attacked his privates in wild abandon, atop a horse! Even worse, he was whimpering and groaning!

It went on for what felt like eternity, but in actual fact was only a minute. If not for Halvate holding his reins and guiding his horse, Joran would have been bucked off the horse a long time ago. When the itch finally subsided and Joran came back to his senses, he found himself three fingers deep in his own ass, and his cock and balls were red and raw. To his complete humiliation, Joran realized that his unruly cock was sticking up into the air stiffly at its full 11 inches. Flushing deeply, Joran discreetly removed the three fingers he had thrust into his hole, and tried to ignore the whistles around him as he unsuccessfully tried to hide his erection.

"Modesty is unbecoming of damaro, Joran. Nobody will look at a naked damaro twice, even if you are in the middle of the grand plaza. However if you are beautiful to look at," Halvate's eyes raked appreciatively over Joran's body, causing Joran to flush, "you might find yourself naked very often, or wearing the thin see-through sokrun that da'covale wear. I think most will enjoy the amusing show you have just put on for all of us just now."

Joran clenched his fists in anger even as he blinked back tears. This was twisted, no man or woman deserved to be toyed with like this, like, like an animal! He could still feel his own scratches along the impressive length of his erection with every throb, and his hole felt like it was on fire. To his horror, he felt the itch start again in his ass. He glared at Halvate hatefully and shouted, "Stop it! I'm not your fucking t- AARGH!"

Halvate had wrenched his collar leash hard, causing Joran to fall off the horse and tumble down onto the ground. Before Joran could get past the initial shock of pain, he felt a tug on his neck, and moments later he was scrambling to his feet as the collar threatened to strangle him. Halvate, the jerk, hadn't even slowed down the horse's trot! Joran struggled to get to his feet even as he could feel himself being dragged along by the neck.

"I am at the end of my patience, Joran," Halvate said curtly as he continued the trot, causing Joran to break into a quick jog in order not to get strangled. Joran jerked at the collar, but it was held firm by Halvate. The boy apparently was much stronger than he looked, not that Joran had much time to look anyway. Joran was about to retort with a sarcastic reply when an itch drove up his butt like a red-hot rod.

He couldn't help it. Joran squealed and jumped, his quick retort completely wiped from his mind as his fingers went right to his hole again.

The entire journey to Falme was like that. Halvate kept the pace manageable, and whenever Joran showed signs of flagging or of saying something, Halvate would send a spear of itching into his hole, and that would effectively shut Joran up.

At least the trip was short. By the end of it sweat was pouring down Joran's bare flesh, the beads of sweat clinging to his hairy body shimmering in the torch light. Joran himself was heaving frantically, trying to catch his breath. He wasn't that unfit - because of the Power, he still had the youth and body of a 25 year old, but the years in Cairhien amongst the nobles had evidently exacted its price from his fitness. Joran could feel his lungs and muscles burning, but most of all, his abused hole radiated pain like he never knew before. His fingers had scrabbled uncontrollably at the itch in his hole all the way, and now it was scratched raw. For a man who had never even touched his own hole before in his life, he was clearly getting intimate with it.

"Come," Halvate ordered, tugging on the leash again. They had all dismounted in front of the city gates, and were about to walk in. Joran's anger flared. That tug again! As though he was a beast, a dog to be led! Despite his weariness, Joran lunged at the boy.

He didn't even get a chance. As though Halvate had already anticipated it, the boy sidestepped Joran's half-assed lunge and stuck out a foot, which Joran promptly tripped over. The next moment Joran was lying on the dirt road, frantically struggling to breathe as a boot drove his face down into the dirt.

"I tend not to use pain, but that does not mean that I will not use it," Halvate said coldly from above Joran. "Believe me, there are few things worse for a man to feel than this."

Before Joran could react, sharp, red-hot needles lanced through his balls. He screamed, his entire body bucking violently. It was as though his balls were repeatedly stabbed with giant needles, and then crushed and rolled between grinders. His hands went immediately to his balls, but there was nothing to protect them from. Joran kept screaming into the dirt - Halvate's boot was still driving his face into the ground, but Joran's mind was only flooded with one thing - to get the pain to stop.

It did, finally, a few moments later. Joran was left sobbing weakly, his hands clutching his balls protectively. His balls felt as though they had just gone through a crusher, and even though they felt like they were fine, just touching them sent spasms of pain through Joran's body.

"There are variations you know. That was just the needles and crushing treatment. There's one that is the kicking variation."

Joran gave a shrill scream as he felt his tortured balls savagely kicked. His entire body thrashed in order to get away from Halvate, but the boot on his neck was like a rock, pinning him securely to the ground. There was another blow, and then agony erupted in his balls again. Joran half-screamed, half-sobbed in pain, his body curling up as best as he could while blow after blow rained down on his abused nuts.

It was a while before Joran realized that the blows had stopped.

"The good thing about using the a'dam for pain is that it's all in your head," Halvate's calm voice said. "There is no physical damage. That does not mean that the pain is not real." Joran felt some pressure around his nuts, and immediately he whimpered as his tender nuts twinged in pain. "You see? The pain is very much real."

"But fear of pain will not make a good damaro. The damaro who seeks to please will be ten times more effective than one who fears the punishment," Halvate said, although it sounded more as though he had recited it from memory. He removed his boot from Joran's neck. "Get up."

Joran slowly pushed himself off the ground, trying to wipe tears away from his eyes. He couldn't believe it. Joran had once thought that he could handle anything, but nothing prepared him for the abuse on his balls he had just taken. It was all still very surreal, and Joran was surprised his balls hadn't already been crushed into an unrecognizable pulp. As Halvate had said, there was no physical damage, but the tenderness had Joran cringing and walking bowlegged.

"You look quite a sight."

Joran glanced down at himself. His thrashing on the ground had his sweat mingling with all the dirt, which had turned into mud and was caked on his naked body like a second reddish-brown skin. He couldn't see his own face, but he imagined it must have been streaked with dirt as well.

"Come, we are keeping the others waiting." Halvate tugged the leash again.

This time Joran meekly kept his head down and followed behind his captor, trying to avoid the stares from the people around him. His nuts protested with spasms of pain, and his hole still burned, although now Joran knew enough not to complain or disobey.

Joran discreetly blinked his tears away. At the back of his mind, Joran knew that he was starting to break.


	4. Chapter 4

Halvate strode into the stone houses that served as the damaro barracks, a calm expression on his face as he handed the reins of his horses to the handlers. His insides however were churning with guilt, and irritation at the guilt he was feeling. He hadn't meant to snap like that, to inflict such pain on Joran's balls, but sensing the man's belligerence through the a'dam had caused Halvate to boil over in rage. Besides, Halvate derived a sadistic pleasure from making the man scream. For some reason seeing that muscled man writhing powerlessly on the ground ignited a rush of satisfaction in Halvate. It was only after the rush that he felt guilt. And irritation. 

Halvate shook his head. He was perfectly justified in punishing Joran anyway. Not only had the man repeatedly disobeyed Halvate despite Halvate's kindness, but he had tried to attack him, twice! In front of his peers! Halvate was already being looked down upon because of his young age, and any sort of disobedience would be seen as ineptitude on Halvate's part. He had looked forward to training his very first damaro, and he was not going to be delayed graduation just because he had drawn a short stick and came up with an experienced old man, while his year-mates had gotten teenagers.

Well, Joran wasn't that old, Halvate mused idly as he navigated his way to his room. The way Joran's muscles shone and glistened in the flickering torchlight attested to that. And those legs! Joran looked like he could be Halvate's older brother, but his eyes belied his youthful appearance. Joran had one of the sharpest eyes Halvate had ever seen. They were a dreamy silver grey, but with hidden depths swirling behind them. If not for the a'dam, Halvate would have been fairly intimidated by those eyes.

Halvate examined the ball of sensations that was Joran again. It seemed that Joran was experiencing difficulties with walking. A twinge of guilt washed over Halvate again, but he immediately suppressed it. When an animal misbehaved, it was punished, as simple as that. Even an animal as gorgeous as the one currently leashed to his hand. Again Halvate diverted his thoughts away. It would not do to feel attracted to a damaro, much less his own damaro.

Halvate stopped as he reached his door. Joran would be living with him for three months before Halvate would have to present him at his final exam. If Joran was successfully obedient and trained enough, Halvate would finally receive the two lightning bolts on his forearms to mark him as a full-fledged morul'dam.

He turned to the damaro in question. Joran was shivering, even as he winced in pain whenever he adjusted his footing. Suddenly Halvate realized that Joran was cold. Summer was ending, and the stone houses kept out the heat of the summer, which also meant that they were cold at night. And Joran was not wearing a single stitch.

Again Halvate felt guilt that he had played such a trick on his damaro, that he would not be able to wear clothes for at least three days. Pushing the thought out of his mind, Halvate unlocked his door and entered with Joran behind him.

His room was fairly spartan, as expected of a student of the a'dam academies. There was just one bed, a table and chair, a wardrobe and a washbasin. In the corner of the room was a small pallet covered with a straw mat, as well as a hook on the wall. It was obvious where the damaro would sleep.

It seemed Joran had noticed as well. Halvate could sense a rush of indignation and fury through the a'dam, and he quickly concentrated, sending a sharp tap to the man's balls through the link. Joran stifled a cry, but he didn't do anything else. The indignation subsided, only to be replaced with a faint sense of anger and despair.

Halvate didn't like it. In the a'dam academies he had handled many damaro, and all of them had been willing to please, their only worry was that they had done something wrong. Even though he had been warned before by his teachers, the reality of training a marath'damaro was starkly different. He was unused to feeling such hostility through the a'dam, and even worse, the slow breaking of a man as he sunk into despair. For the first time Halvate wondered if he was missing something. The richness of emotions that he was feeling from Joran were starkly different from what he usually felt from the Seanchan damaro. He almost seemed like a regular human.

Pushing those treasonous thoughts away, Halvate strode over to the bell beside the door to ring for a da'covale. Moments later there was a knock on his door, as though the da'covale was waiting outside just for his bell to ring. He opened the door to find a male da'covale standing outside.

"Get one hot tub of water in here to wash," Halvate commanded. The da'covale nodded, and Halvate made to close the door, when he felt shock and horror emanate from the a'dam. He turned to Joran, whose mouth was gaping open. Halvate frowned.

"What's wrong, Joran?"

"Y-you..." Joran stuttered, still staring at the da'covale. "I mean, I heard the stories, but this..."

"What?" Halvate asked impatiently. He looked at the da'covale, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"His clothes..."

Understanding bloomed. The da'covale was wearing the customary nearly transparent white robes, called sokrun, which showed off all of his beautiful muscles and hairless smooth skin and hid nothing.

"That's what da'covale wear. Stop wasting my time and let him do his work." Nodding at the da'covale, Halvate shut the door firmly and turned to Joran.

He stepped menacingly toward the older man. It probably wasn't the best idea, though. Joran towered over Halvate by a head, and he was much bigger and more muscular than Halvate's lithe frame. Halvate assumed the coldest mask of confidence he could, then grabbed Joran's short dark hair and wrenched his head down in front of his own.

Joran tried to resist, but Halvate was much stronger than he looked. Besides, it was small work to send a tap to Joran's balls through the a'dam. Joran immediately acquiesced and hunched over. Halvate looked straight into Joran's silver grey eyes.

"Damaro do not question," he hissed. "I will forgive you this one time, because you have not seen a da'covale before. But know this. Damaro are animals, below even da'covale. At least da'covale can rise in station to so'jihn. You, however, belong to the Empress, may she live forever, and any morul'dam who comes along and wears your bracelet. And you will obey all of them, and do everything they tell you to, because you are damaro. For the rest of your life."

From the stricken look in his eyes, and the surge of emotions from the a'dam, it seemed that Joran had indeed gotten the message.

"And you forget that you don't even have the robe to cover yourself. If you continue to anger me, I shall personally make sure that you get to wear nothing for the rest of your life," Halvate continued. "I will imprint the idea of cloth as a weapon so deeply in your mind that you will never touch cloth ever again."

Anger flared in Joran's eyes, and he swung a fist in Halvate's direction, which was promptly intercepted. Halvate sighed. He had to punish damaro for any signs of rebellion, it was practically standard protocol for training marath'damaro, but it was starting to get old. He shook his head in regret.

"Joran, Joran, when will you learn? I'm afraid that every time you disobey I will have to punish you." Halvate concentrated on the ball of sensations in his head.

With a yell, Joran crumpled to the ground, his hands trying to shield his body from the invisible lashes that rained down on his unprotected flesh, not that they did any good. Halvate made sure to cover almost every inch of Joran's body, including several well-placed lashes up his asscrack. Halvate knew first-hand just how much that would hurt.

Indeed, Joran gave a high-pitched scream as the a'dam inflicted invisible lashes on his abused hole, causing him to grab his ass and thrust his hips out in pain. Halvate grinned, then started lashing Joran's already tortured balls. Joran gave a strangled cry and doubled up in pain, pulling on the leash and nearly wrenching Halvate off-balance. Halvate jerked pitilessly at the leash, all the while alternating the lashes between Joran's ass and balls, causing the poor man to cry out and writhe uselessly on the ground. He only stopped when he heard a knock on the door.

He opened the door, and the da'covale entered, rolling a large tub of steaming water in front of him. The da'covale didn't even look twice at the writhing damaro on the floor, instead setting out the towels and tub in the middle of the room, then knelt down in front of Halvate.

"Go," Halvate ordered. The da'covale nodded his head and scurried out.

Halvate tugged at Joran's leash and said in a steely voice, "Get up."

Slowly Joran tried to prop himself up with a shaky arm, but it proved to be too much. With a grunt of pain Joran collapsed, his body splaying out against the stone floor.

Halvate bit back a curse of annoyance and was ready to inflict a lash across that recalcitrant man's balls when he realized starkly that Joran was in a worse condition than he thought. Examining the ball of sensations that was Joran, Halvate realized that the man was near the brink of exhaustion. He hadn't eaten the entire day and he had just been made to run to Falme and then tortured viciously. With a stab of guilt Halvate realized that he was going too far. Even damaro had limits.

Closing his eyes, Halvate sought to clear his mind. While everybody knew that the a'dam was used to punish, few realized that it could reward. And even amongst the morul'dam, far fewer knew that it could actively help and support the damaro. 

It wasn't easy to do, but Halvate wasn't the youngest graduate of the academies in decades for nothing. His mastery of the a'dam had propelled him through the academies in record time, and Halvate had realized early on that being able to pass on his strength through the a'dam allowed the damaro to channel more strongly. Far too few morul'dam took advantage of that fact.

Halvate took a deep breath, then concentrated. He recalled the feeling of strength after a night's sleep, the satisfaction of having a good meal, the sensation of power coursing through his veins as he flexed his muscles. Gathering these memories together, he carefully wrapped them around the ball of sensations in his head, as though caressing Joran with his strength. 

The effect was immediate. Joran opened his eyes, blinked in confusion, then rose to his feet in one smooth motion.

"What was that?" He asked, surprise turning his tone harsh.

Halvate frowned. "Damaro only speak when spoken to. I will allow you this one question, but no more. Also, I have decided that you are to call me master at all times. Do I make myself clear?"

"Just answer my question! What was - ARGH!!"

Halvate had switched him once on his butt, causing the bigger man to yell and grab his ass cheeks in surprise. Joran glared at Halvate hatefully, but the memories of his punishments must still have been on his mind, for he remained silent.

"Good boy. Now if you must know, the a'dam can be used to transfer strength as well. Now it's late and we are going to clean up. Take off your boots."

Joran glared at the floor sullenly as he obeyed. Halvate decided to let it slide for now. It was only his first night, Halvate certainly didn't expect a miraculous change of attitude in a couple of hours.

"Grab that washbasin and towel and fill it up," Halvate ordered. He waited impatiently as Joran slowly filled up the washbasin. While Halvate had helped with his strength through the a'dam, he could still sense that Joran was hurting everywhere on his body. It made Halvate sigh. Sometimes he was too kindhearted for his own good. Other morul'dam would have punished Joran for his slowness.

When Joran finished, Halvate led him over to the corner of the room with the pallet and hung the bracelet on the hook on the wall. Gesturing to the washbasin, Halvate gave a curt order, "Wash yourself then go to sleep. It's an early day tomorrow."

Ignoring Joran's expression of fury and disgust, Halvate strode over to the tub in the middle of the room and promptly stripped. Lowering his body into the warm water with a sigh of relief, Halvate sat back and closed his eyes.

It was just the first night, and already Halvate felt doubt about finishing Joran's training.


	5. Chapter 5

Joran hissed in pain as he knelt down in front of the washbasin. The dried mud on his body pulled at his skin, causing the invisible welts to sting with a vengeance. Even worse, his hole felt like it was splitting apart. He didn't even want to think about his balls, which were throbbing with a sharp ache. 

Joran tried to ignore the pain as he ran the wet sponge across his unblemished skin. Halvate was right, there was no physical damage. Yet the pain was unmistakeably real. Joran winced as he pulled at another invisible welt again. For a moment bleak despair overtook him. Was this what he had to look forward to for the rest of his long life? Punished for every mistake, denied any luxury, and worst of all, denied control of Saidin? Just holding the Power was intoxicating. A couple of hours without it and already he missed it terribly. 

Despite his best efforts, a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye. He didn't hold out any hope that anyone would rescue him. His best friend had betrayed him, and his son Dorian was too young and inexperienced. Dorian would only get himself captured if he attempted a rescue. Besides nobody would have any way of tracking him down. He hadn't had the foresight to bond anybody, not that he had anyone to bond to in the first place. Dorian's mother had been a wench he had bedded one night and not met until she delivered Dorian to the Black Tower. He had paid her off with gold and that was that.

"Why'd you stop?" Halvate's deep voice asked flatly from across the room.

Joran started. He had stopped washing himself while lost in his thoughts. Belatedly Joran resumed his scrubbing. The water was turning brown from all the mud on his body, but the warm sponge felt soothing against his battered body. From behind him he could hear Halvate getting out of the water and walking over to where he was.

Joran eyed the bracelet hanging on the wall, fully expecting his captor to seize it and start punishing him again. To his surprise, Halvate did, but unexpectedly there was no sharp flare of pain.

Joran turned and cast a sidelong glance at the dripping boy behind him. The first thing he noticed was that Halvate was a lot more muscular that he had thought. Joran belatedly realized that it was only his face that looked really boyish. The boy's body - a young man's, really - rippled with muscles which glistened wetly in the flickering light of the torch. 

"Come," Halvate ordered as he tugged on the leash. Joran suppressed the urge to jerk his neck away. He was curious as to what Halvate was doing. Why wasn't he punishing him already?

It turned out that Halvate only wanted Joran to get in the tub. Joran acquiesced, thinking that Halvate was done with it, but was shocked when he felt the younger man sliding in behind him.

Joran immediately stood up and tried to climb out of the tub, but he didn't expect the leash to draw up short. Nearly choking, he fell back into the tub against Halvate's solid body with a great splash.

"What are you doing?" Halvate exclaimed, wiping the water away from his eyes. 

"Shouldn't I ask what you are doing?" Joran retorted. Halvate had reached out to grab Joran when he fell, and now Joran's back was pressed up uncomfortably along the length of Halvate's body.

"I'm trying to wash you! Now stop struggling!" Halvate commanded. There was a warning squeeze on his balls, before Joran stilled and stopped his struggling.

Joran stiffened as Halvate ran his hands all over his body. Halvate's 'washing' was slow and languorous, occasionally kneading Joran's muscles, but the warm tub really was too small for two men to share it comfortably. As a result Joran only got more and more uncomfortable the more Halvate tried to clean him. He was practically sitting in Halvate's lap, his back pressed up against Halvate's well toned pecs and abs, and his lower back sliding up and down against a rigid rod that he knew could only belong to Halvate. Yet despite his discomfort and aches, the entire experience was so arousing that Joran found himself sporting a raging hard-on.

Joran groaned unwittingly when he felt fingers knead his nipples gently. He reddened and clenched his fists when he realized what had happened.

"Like it, don't you? Unfortunately for you the a'dam is also a chastity device," Halvate whispered in his gravelly low voice.

Joran whipped his head around so fast that droplets of water flew into Halvate's eyes. He shifted to properly face Halvate, then demanded in a high-pitched voice, "What?!"

Halvate only chuckled. Now that he was almost nose to nose with the younger man Joran realized just how disconcertingly young Halvate looked. With his smaller stature, Halvate looked like an extremely buff 14-year old on the cusp of manhood. The 40-year-old Joran felt a pang of humiliation at being collared and enslaved to such a young boy, but he quickly stifled that emotion. 

"Isn't it clear enough? Every bit of pleasure you can obtain must be earned. If you please me, I will let you find release. Displease me..." Halvate let the sentence hang in the air unfinished, but the threat was clear. 

Joran's mind was a blank buzz. Even with the pleasure from holding the Source he had never gone a day without jacking himself off. It seemed as if channelling Saidin made his libido shoot through the roof along with the slowing of his body's age. It was no wonder so many Asha'man dallied about resulting in many unexpected accidents.

And now, no release...? 

Halvate must have sensed Joran's disbelief, for he smirked. "Why don't you try pleasuring yourself now? In fact, let me help you with it." Contrary to Joran's expectations, Halvate started stroking his own modestly sized 7 incher instead.

Joran gasped, a whimper of ecstasy escaping his throat. Not only did he feel every stroke Halvate was doing, the pleasure seemed to be magnified ten times more intense than usual. And Halvate was not even touching Joran!

A wave of pure pleasure took over Joran as his eyes rolled up in his head. This felt better than the best fuck he had ever had, and he didn't want it to end. He could feel himself rapidly approaching the climax, and his hand drifted over to his own 11 incher which was sticking out red and full to bursting in the warm bathwater. 

"Ow!!" Joran screamed as what felt like lightning shot through his palm and cock. Instantly all thoughts of climaxing were driven out of his head. He stared at Halvate, who was smirking at Joran's wilted cock.

"I told you it's a chastity device. A rather cruel one, if what you're feeling is anything to judge by. But you can still feel this, can you not?" Halvate started stroking his own cock again, and instantly Joran felt waves of pleasure rock his cock and balls so intensely that he unwittingly groaned out loud. His traitorous cock was once again poking out proudly into the water.

"Whatever I feel, you feel ten times more, remember? That includes pleasure as well as pain." Halvate rubbed his own cockhead with the palm of his hand, causing Joran to gasp from the toe curling sensation. Smirking, Halvate resumed stroking his cock, and from the frenzied pace Joran knew that Halvate was rapidly approaching the edge. He could feel the pleasure skyrocketing in his own cock and balls, making them literally ache for release. Joran moaned unintelligibly as he gripped the edge of the tub, afraid to touch his own cock, but it didn't matter anymore, Halvate was bringing the both of them to climax in what seemed to be the most explosive orgasm Joran would ever experience...

With an animal cry Halvate exploded into the water, white strings of cum erupting from his cock to float in the water around them. Joran arched his back with a cry, so intense was the climax transmitted over the a'dam, that it was only a few seconds later that he realized that he had not cum.

The ache for release was still there, except much much sharper now. With a grunt of frustration, Joran reached unthinkingly for his throbbing cock.

"Ow!! Blast it!" Joran yelled as another bolt of lightning incapacitated his hand and cock. Amazingly his cock was still rock hard and throbbing despite the sharp punishment. Tears of frustration welled up in Joran's eyes as his cock throbbed and demanded for release.

"There's no need to be upset," Halvate drawled. "You can find release when you have earned it." He smiled as he reached up to fondle Joran's hair. "Now do you understand the life of a damaro? Just do as you are told, and you'll be rewarded. Disobey, and you will suffer. Most damaro get to find release at least once every week. If you're especially obedient your morul'dam may even enter you. I've heard it's one of the most ecstatic experience ever."

Joran wasn't sure he heard correctly. Enter him? What did that mean?

"Are your jewels close to bursting now?" Halvate teased as he ran long fingers over Joran's low hanging babymakers. "Too bad they will stay that way until you learn to obey." Halvate abruptly rose from the water that had turned lukewarm, the water sluicing down over his muscles. "Now, to sleep. Your training will begin tomorrow."

Joran rose from the bath as Halvate tugged on his leash again, this time without resistance. Briefly Joran wondered if there was any point in resisting. Nobody had ever escaped the Seanchan without outside help. The a'dam was designed to be inescapable. 

He blinked his tears away as he rubbed himself dry and lay down on the pallet, staring into the darkness after Halvate had put out the torch and turned in himself. His stomach growled with hunger, his body ached furiously, yet his erection was still sticking up proudly into the air. Oh how much his life had changed in just a few hours. The excess and luxury he was used to before seemed like another lifetime already. And Saidin....

Joran closed his eyes and immersed himself in the Void. There it was, the Source just shining tantalizingly close at the borders. It seemed the forkroot tea had completely worn off. Joran reached out hungrily for the Source, expecting the tumultuous rush of exhilaration that filled him everytime he seized Saidin, but try as he might the Source only slipped out of his grasp.

Joran's head pounded harder and harder the more he tried to channel, until he had to swallow down the bile that rose from his stomach.

Nothing.

Joran sank into despair as he fully comprehended the situation he was in. For the next couple hundred years of his life, he would be a slave, bound to obey the whims of any random morul'dam who wore his bracelet. He wouldn't even be allowed the most basic relief that was every man's right.

A tear rolled down his cheek as he closed his eyes. 

Sleep was a long time in coming.


	6. Chapter 6

Joran woke up the next day to find himself hugging something incredibly warm. Even better, his own thick erection was pressing up against something rigid and it felt good to rub up against it.

Joran humped sleepily against the warm rigid thing, moaning in pleasure as he did so. It was only when the thing started humping back that his mind woke up and the events of the day before abruptly crashed into his mind. With a jerk of horror, Joran snapped open his eyes, only to stare into two very blue ones.

"Good morning," Halvate rumbled in that gravelly baritone of his. "Had a good night?" 

"What..." Joran stammered. Belatedly he realized he still had the younger boy in his arms, and he could feel Halvate's hot naked length pressing against his own. With a yell of surprise Joran pushed Halvate away, causing the boy to roll off the pallet onto the floor.

"Ow!" Both cried out at the same time. Halvate because he had knocked his hip against the stone floor, and Joran because pain exploded up his side. Groaning in agony, Joran realized too late the presence of the bracelet on Halvate's wrist.

"What are you doing!" Joran cried out. Instead of answering, Halvate only rose from the floor, silently glaring at Joran. Instantly Joran squealed as red hot lashes rained down on his exposed butt. His hands immediately tried to cover his rear, but to his stark despair he realized that it was to no avail as the lashes were only in his mind.

"It is good to hear you squeal like a bad boy caught misbehaving," the baritone voice said coldly. "Perhaps I will leave you to your shivering and nightmares the next time." Halvate coolly hung the bracelet back on the hook, then promptly turned around and strode over to his wardrobe without another word.

Joran gaped at Halvate's retreating back, unsure of what he had just heard. Yes last night had been cold, and he couldn't touch the blanket without vomiting. To make matters worse, he had also fallen into a fitful sleep where he dreamt that instead of Halvate enslaving him, it was Kieran who had collared him and had him humiliated in front of the entire court of Cairhien. However, that had only lasted a while because afterwards it became warm and his dreams turned far more pleasant... 

Could Halvate had been the one to soothe him as he implied? The more Joran tried, the less he understood Halvate. Understanding people's motives was a basic skill if you wanted to survive in Cairhien, but Joran just didn't get Halvate's motives. The young man was sadistic and kind in turns - it was just terribly confusing. 

"Wash up," Halvate said curtly, gesturing to a steaming basin of water beside the chamberpot. 

Joran blinked back from his thoughts. Halvate had put on a simple shirt and breeches and already had the bracelet on again. Before Halvate could tug on the leash, Joran picked himself up - he hated feeling like a dog to be tugged everywhere. However this only drew a a satisfied nod from Halvate. 

"Good. You are learning to anticipate my commands." Halvate praised as he patted Joran on his head, which was quite a stretch as Joran was taller by a head. Joran ground his teeth in frustration. Bloody ashes, he was becoming a well-trained dog!

"There is no shame in behaving well," Halvate said with an approving smile. "If you keep this up I might let you find release at the end of the month."

Joran grimaced as his morning hard-on flexed at the thought of sexual release. Damn the boy, he was finding it harder and harder to fight back. Wordlessly, Joran simply shuffled over to the washbasin and did his morning ablutions. He hesitated though when it came to the chamberpot. Halvate, the bastard, was just standing there watching him.

"An animal does not know modesty, that is a concept only for humans," Halvate recited with a smirk. In that instant white-hot rage suffused Joran's entire body. Enough was enough.

Lightning-quick, Joran snapped around and flung a fist at his captor's face with enough force to kill, to hell with the consequences.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Halvate only had an instant's warning through the a'dam before Joran's large fist flew into his face. Fortunately his reflexes saved him from having his face caved in. As it was though, the punch clipped the side of his face. Halvate winced. This one he was going to feel for days, and he feared he would have a bruise for a week as a mark of his incompetence. Halvate shook his head and put the thought of his own humiliation away. He needed to deal with the marath'damaro now.

Said damaro was currently curled up on the floor, his hands clutching at his face and groaning terribly. He was going to feel like his entire cheekbone was fractured, Halvate surmised. Oh well. A man must reap what he sows after all.

"Get up," Halvate ordered coldly. He tugged at the leash impatiently. Joran appeared to be too absorbed in his own pain to respond, so Halvate simply started pulling as he walked to the door.

"Urghh!" Joran gurgled as he scrabbled at his collar which was suddenly choking him. Within moments the big man had scrambled to his feet and was following Halvate as he massaged his throat and face.

"Why aren't you punishing me?"

Halvate stifled a spike of annoyance at the man's impertinence. Now that they were out of Halvate's personal chambers, damaro were expected to follow a certain protocol, which included keeping his head down and not breathing a single word. Halvate remained silent, his only response to jerk the chain down, forcing the big man to hunch over.

It was hard work. Joran was much stronger than him, but Halvate persevered. He picked up his speed so that Joran would be forced to trot, and hopefully be out of breath to ask more questions.

Before long Halvate reached the main training yard. It was a grassy field surrounded by the barracks walls, and was large enough for the morul'dam and damaro to do their morning exercises. There were more than ten pairs doing their exercises, but Halvate wasn't going to join them. He was headed for the center of the field, where a raised wooden platform was placed. 

He held his head high as he strode past his brothers and sisters, aware of the bruise forming on his cheek, but not allowing it to affect his demeanor. Most of his fellow morul'dam and sul'dam smirked when they saw the bruise, and their eyebrows raised knowingly as they saw where he was headed.

It seemed that Joran had also realized where they were headed, for he stopped short, jerking at the leash in Halvate's hand.

"No bloody way!"

Halvate stifled another spike of annoyance. Joran was quickly getting on his nerves. He faced the tall, hairy man whose eyes were currently wide open in horror.

"Yes it's a pillory. And yes that is your punishment. Move!" Halvate ordered.

When the damaro refused, Halvate resorted to lashes across his butt, causing the big man to squeal in pain. Halvate relished in the pleasure of seeing the muscular man hop about in pain, his semi-hard cock and low-hanging goose eggs flapping about ridiculously. Still, he had better establish control soon. His brothers and sisters were watching. 

"You will move and put yourself in the pillory," Halvate stated calmly, although his mind was anything but. He ignored the turmoil of insecurity, doubt and irritation in his mind, and concentrated on heating up Joran's body through the a'dam. It was standard training protocol. A warning, followed by harsh punishment if unheeded.

To his immense irritation, Joran refused to budge. Halvate could even sense the wave of rebellious thoughts through the a'dam.

Oh well, Halvate thought. Time for the fire then. He concentrated this time on burning Joran's skin.

The resulting bloodcurling scream could be heard all over the yard.

Halvate suppressed a shudder of pleasure as he eyed the writhing man on the grass. For some reason watching big, muscular men writhing and screaming in pain brought him off like no other. Secretly Halvate wondered if all the morul'dam and sul'dam were sadists like him. Surely you had to be one to master the a'dam?

Halvate stopped the burning and regarded his damaro with a raised eyebrow.

"Will you move?"

"Y-yes..." Joran whimpered weakly as he struggled to get to his feet. Halvate tugged at the leash impatiently. It would not do to let others see him coddle his damaro who was about to be pilloried.

"Move!"

With some difficulty and more yelling from Joran, Halvate finally managed to secure the muscular man in the pillory. It sure wasn't comfortable, as the height was set so low that the poor damaro was bent over, his face coming only to Halvate's crotch. It did however cause Joran to perk his pale, white butt up into the air.

Halvate walked around his restrained damaro, secretly admiring the way Joran's glutes clenched. His hairy asscrack was also full on display, as was his long, swinging flaccid cock. Already Joran was bending his knees to alleviate the strain in his back.

"Oh no, you aren't getting off so easily," Halvate chuckled. Fetching a short metal pole that was placed at the side of the platform, Halvate inserted the pole into a hole in the platform strategically drilled below Joran's round globes. Coiled around the pole was a thin cotton rope, which Halvate wasted no time in freeing and tying one end around Joran's sore balls. The other end Halvate looped through a hole at the top of the pole, and pulled.

Halvate smiled as Joran yelled and cursed as his balls were pulled up, forcing him onto his toes. He must really be uncomfortable now, bent over as he was, with his butt high up in the air and his calves under immense pressure to keep his butt up. His balls, having been crushed and beaten the night before, must be really really sore today, and being pulled up like that must really hurt. 

Ignoring all these sensations from the a'dam, Halvate finished securing the rope and stepped back to survey his work.

By the Empress, the damaro looked good.

Halvate could feel his semi-hard cock stirring in his loose breeches. With his back arched, every muscle on Joran's body was taut with tension, and his calves were outlined beautifully amidst all the fur that covered his body. It was early morning and the sun wasn't too strong, yet a light sheen of sweat covered Joran's pale skin, dampening the dark hair on Joran's body. What really attracted Halvate though was the long cock that was hanging straight down. Eight inches and flaccid, it swung between his muscled legs and was just begging for abuse. 

Halvate returned to the front of the pillory and smirked. He could tell even without the a'dam that the man was humiliated beyond measure. As the morning progressed, more and more people joined the field for their morning walks and exercises, a mixture of morul'dam, sul'dam, damaro, and damane. There must be over thirty people on the field now to witness his humiliation. Worse still, Joran was bare ass naked, without even his boots. To a former powerful asha'man like Joran, the situation must be intensely humiliating, as evidenced by the waves of shame rolling off the collar.

Halvate squatted down and regarded Joran in the face. "You tried to kill me," he stated calmly.

"Damn you! Release me this instant!" Joran yelled back.

Halvate backhanded the man roughly, causing Joran to sputter angrily.

"It is standard protocol for trying to kill your morul'dam. You are still in training, so you will be getting off lightly with the pillory. The first time you will simply be tortured on the pillory for one day." Halvate paused, making sure that he had Joran's attention.

"The second time you try to kill your morul'dam, you will be gelded. You will be strung up by your balls and bounced up and down until your family jewels are either crushed into a pulp, or simply ripped off. It is not an enjoyable punishment, let me assure you. The screams can last for days, I heard."

Halvate watched in satisfaction as Joran's eyes bugged out in horror at the description.

"Do you know what being gelded does to a man?" Without waiting for Joran's reply, Halvate continued in his sinister baritone. "If your manhood hasn't already been ripped off, it will shrivel up, unable to get hard, and you become lean and stringy like a boy. You can still wield the Power, of course, which is what you are being trained for."

Halvate paused, waiting for the implications to sink in.

"And for the third time... usually there is no third time. It has never happened before, because gelded damaro lose much of their aggression, which is the only reason why it's not performed on all damaro. But as per protocol, the third time is Severing followed by starvation unto death."

Joran made a choked sound. "That's..."

Halvate nodded. "Yes. It is cruel, but necessary. However, as long as you do not try, there is nothing to worry about." Halvate ruffled Joran's short, dark hair. "And now, for your punishment."

Without warning, Halvate concentrated on the a'dam and pierced Joran's meaty cockhead with a red-hot needle.


	7. Chapter 7

Joran sobbed.

His entire body was aflame with pain. He couldn't even differentiate between each part of his body anymore. It hurt everywhere.

"Beg me to punish you."

"P...please...stop..." Joran begged, his voice already hoarse with all the screaming. He didn't care about the onlookers anymore. His shame had disappeared with the first few punishments that rained down on his body. He had lost control of his bladder long ago, but he didn't even care about the pool of piss beneath him anymore. All he cared about was stopping the overwhelming pain that engulfed his body.

Joran screamed as his hole was subjected to another flurry of whips. At the same time, he felt a red-hot rod thrust into his piss slit. Joran gagged as he vomited from the pain. Or at least, tried to. For his stomach was empty and had been emptied out long ago.

"Beg me to punish you."

Always the same refrain. Joran opened his eyes, clouded with pain, and regarded Halvate's ice-blue orbs.

He looked so innocent, but beneath those boyish good looks was a sadistic monster.

"B-burn you," Joran wheezed.

A hot branding iron against his nipples, and yet another hoarse scream wrenched from his tortured throat.

"Beg me to punish you."

Joran coughed. He wondered how long this had been going on. It felt like hours, but Joran could tell from Halvate's shadow that it was only mid-morning.

It seemed that Halvate had not waited for Joran's answer, for Joran screamed again as his poor nuts were kicked mercilessly.

For a moment, Joran wondered if it was possible to permanently lose his nuts from just the a'dam. Intellectually he understood that it was just the standing flows of Spirit in the a'dam that made him feel the pain, but in reality it felt all too real.

"Beg me to punish you."

"C-curse you..." Joran retorted weakly. He was starting to flag, and Halvate's tortures were inventive and starting to wear down his resistance.

It was corded whips this time, which rained down on his back.

Joran sobbed. He had tried to escape to the Void, trying to dissociate from the pain as he had been taught to do, but the pain was just too great and the Void escaped him. Besides, Halvate knew just where his most tender spots were. Joran didn't think he would forget the feeling of a red-hot lance up his dick any time soon.

"Beg me to punish you."

Joran dry-heaved as his stomach was punched mercilessly.

His only solace was that this was just pain and there would be no marks nor damage on his body.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Halvate sweated. He had been at it for two hours and still the man had refused to cave in to his first demand.

Joran was proving more resilient than he thought. Despite putting the man through most of his tortures, Joran still refused. The man was thoroughly exhausted, with sweat dripping down his entire body and his calves trembling with the continual effort of keeping his butt high, yet he still refused.

"What do you hope to achieve by resisting?" Halvate asked, breaking his litany of demands for the first time in two hours.

Joran blinked at Halvate, his silver eyes weary with pain. "You can't break me with just pain," he replied.

Halvate frowned as he wondered what Joran meant. Halvate could feel a small sense of smug satisfaction from Joran through the a'dam. It took a few moments before Halvate realized what Joran was referring to.

Of course. The a'dam delivered pain and only pain. Joran could deal with it as long as there was no permanent damage.

Halvate shook his head. The poor fool.

"The a'dam relies on flows of Spirit to give you pain. This you know, right?" Halvate said.

Joran nodded, his expression wary.

"Which other weaves do you know that use Spirit?" Halvate questioned.

Joran frowned tiredly. Halvate could sense his exhaustion and pain, but beneath all that was still a modicum of alertness.

"Healing, illusions, mind tricks, compulsion, bonding-"

"-And if the mind is overloaded, what happens?" Halvate questioned idly. He could see the answer on Joran's horrorstruck face.

"I see you don't need me to be explicit. In short, if I torture you with the a'dam too much without letting you recover, you will gradually lose your senses. In time, your entire body will become numb." Halvate leaned in closer until he was nose-to-nose with Joran. "Imagine," Halvate whispered in the silky baritone of his. "Pulling on that thick, long cock of yours, with no feeling whatsoever, unable to get it up, for centuries on end..."

To emphasize his point, Halvate concentrated on whipping Joran's beautiful long cock. Joran screamed, but hardly any sound came out anymore, so torn was his throat.

"Why?" Joran rasped. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Halvate sighed. "Because you refuse to submit. All this-" Halvate waved his hand over Joran's pain-ridden body. "All this is completely unnecessary. All you need to do is to submit and obey."

There was still doubt in Joran's eyes.

"Why resist and invite pain? After all, good behavior begets rewards. Let me show you what are some of the rewards you can get." Halvate closed his eyes and concentrated.

He could hear Joran gasp in his hoarse voice, this time in bliss. Halvate knew what he must be feeling, a feeling of ecstasy in his loins, riding higher and higher, until he was just teetering on the edge of the precipice -

Halvate stopped. He opened his eyes and regarded Joran's crushed expression with amusement.

"That was just a simple sexual release you could find from your hand. I have been told that if your morul'dam enters you while linked, the damaro usually faints from all the pleasure. It is that good."

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran felt despair overwhelm him.

Even if the a'dam had no long term effects, Joran also knew that he couldn't resist indefinitely. The worst part was that the a'dam prevented suicide, and there was no escape without outside help. 

In that moment, the inevitability of it all struck Joran hard. Joran couldn't imagine a world in which there was no feeling, no touch, no taste, no smell. What would be the point in living then? If he was going to give in sooner or later, why not sooner and save himself all the pain? Why not start obeying and gain the blissful rewards that Halvate talked about?

There was no escape anyway.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Halvate could sense the moment Joran broke. The resistance in the ball of sensations crumbled, and a single tear rolled from Joran's eyes.

"Beg me to punish you," Halvate said tenderly.

"P-please punish me, master," Joran said hoarsely, a defeated look in his eyes.

"Good. You are learning. Now the standard punishment protocol is simply whipping. You could have saved yourself all that pain in your private parts if you had just simply asked for punishment," Halvate rebuked. He started a simple paddling on Joran's muscular butt, causing the hunky damaro to whimper.

"There, that's much more manageable, isn't it?" Halvate said softly.

Joran only nodded and whimpered.

"Good. That's progress. However I will still need to keep you here for the entire day as per protocol. Will you be brave for me and endure your punishment?"

Joran nodded even as he whimpered from the ever increasing strokes on his butt.

"You are so strong and beautiful, I would hate to break you completely, or worse remove those beautiful jewels of yours." Halvate stroked Joran's chiseled jaw tenderly. "I know what name to call you now. Taeru. It means to endure in Seanchan. Will you become Taeru for me?"

Halvate gave Joran a moment to gather himself. This was a critical moment in which a marath'damaro accepted his fate. It was also the best time to give him a new name. Other morul'dam would impose a new name right off the bat. Not Halvate. He knew that the best damaro and damane came from a willing transformation, a rebirth of sorts. He only hoped that Joran was ready to transform.

Halvate poked at the ball of sensations in his head, watching the inner turmoil roil in Joran's mind. Subtly Halvate adjusted his breathing to match Joran's, and gave him a slight nudge of affection. He wasn't sure it would work. This was his first time after all. But if it did work, it would save him weeks of repetitive torture and training.

Halvate smiled secretly as he felt the cascade of emotions in his damaro. His face was impassive however, simply waiting for Joran to say it out loud, to cement his fate.

"Yes, master," Joran said softly, his voice hoarse not only from his screaming but also with emotion. "Yes master, I submit."

Halvate smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

"You need to stop caring about your modesty."

Joran flinched as Halvate rebuked him.

"Sorry master."

Joran quickly wrapped up his business with the chamberpot and tugged his breeches up.

"Forget it, you won't need any clothes today. I am going to teach you an important lesson. Take off everything."

Joran grimaced as he shucked off his loose breeches and stood bare ass naked in front of Halvate.

"Hands away from your crotch!"

The order was accompanied by a sharp sting on his hands. Joran reluctantly moved them aside, revealing his morning wood in all its 11 inch glory.

"It is a nice cock, you do not need to be ashamed of it."

Joran bristled inside. He wasn't ashamed of his tool. In fact he was flaming proud of it. But it was one thing to brag about it in the shared baths, and quite another to parade about naked as the day he was born.

"Come, we will go to the market."

Joran stood stock still, horrified. Market? In Falme? 

It had been a week since he was captured, and while Joran had spent the first three days conpletely naked due to Halvate's cloth weapon trick, he had always been inside the training compound, where he certainly wasn't the only damaro or damane being punished without clothes. Since then, he had been allowed the standard damaro tunic and breeches, and being naked again made him feel incredibly humiliated, as though he was just an animal.

"Move!"

There was a warning flash of heat, and Joran immediately jumped forward. He didn't even try to resist any more. All he wanted to do now was to obey.

"Sorry master."

"You say that a lot but your behavior still needs improvement," Halvate scolded. "This lesson will be good for you."

Without further explanation, Halvate led Joran out of the compound.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran cringed as people openly gawked at his naked body on display at the center of the market. 

Once out of the compound, Joran had begun to attract attention. However it wasn't until they reached the market that the crowd had become literally crushing, bodies pressing against other bodies. 

The residents had cleared a way for Halvate, who was in a Seanchan morul'dam uniform, and the two Seanchan guards that had followed them, but even so the stares and whispers had followed Joran like an incessant swarm of bees.

In the middle of the market square, where there was a slightly raised platform, Halvate had commanded Joran to stand with his hands resting on the back of his neck. He had unwillingly obeyed, and then Halvate had shown him a trick with the a'dam that he had thought impossible.

Halvate had set up a slow stroking motion on his dick, and a slight itch in his hole, and then had taken off his bracelet.

Joran had looked at the bracelet in horror.

"Yes, I can make the effects last without wearing it. It's a trick of the a'dam not many can do," Halvate had explained, a smirk on his face. "Keep your eyes open and enjoy."

The bastard had then hung the bracelet on Joran's stiff rod, and promptly disappeared.

Joran sweated as the itch in his hole grew a notch, causing him to clench his spinchter. The slow languorous stroking on his dick only caused it to be harder than ever, and he was dripping slime onto the cobblestones in one long, relentless stream. He cringed as a mother dragged her gawking son away, chastising him about looking at the shameful animal. Joran stifled a groan as the itch ratcheted up another notch. 

Blast it, at this rate he was going to have to shove his fingers into his ass to relive that infernal itch. Where was that blasted Halvate?

Joran unwittingly groaned as the itch, having been ignored for so long, grew even more intense. Too late, Joran stifled his groan, but from the looks of disgust from the passers-by, it had evidently been heard as a groan of lust. And who could blame them, with the way Joran's huge, rockhard erection twitched and slimed every few seconds?

Joran flushed in embarrassment as another groan escaped his lips. He was fidgeting more and more now, the itch becoming unbearable.

Blast, he was NOT going to debase himself by sticking his fingers up his arse in full view of what seemed like the entire population of Falme.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Halvate had appeared again.

By that point, Joran was a heaving, sweating mess from trying to fight the itch. He couldn't see himself, but he looked like a two-bit muscle whore clenching his ass and pumping his hips forward every few seconds as he made low, lustful noises. His rockhard cock was an angry purple, the knob glistening with slime that dripped down continuously. 

"Master," Joran heaved with difficulty, his hands clasped tightly behind his neck in a desperate effort to avoid scratching his hole. "Please..."

"Good, you have kept your hands on your neck. However you have been fidgeting unnecessarily." He retrieved the bracelet from Joran's stiff pole, and then clapped it on. "You still need to learn."

Joran gave a muffled yell and buckled his knees as his sensitive cockhead was abruptly engulfed in what seemed like rotating bristles. 

"You want to put on a show for our audience here?"

Joran arched his back and bit back a cry as the itch in his hole intensified tenfold. No, Joran gritted his teeth as he clamped his hands tight behind his neck. He was not going to stuff his fingers into his ass.

The itch was suddenly gone, replaced by a light tickling on Joran's sides and sensitive goose eggs. 

"Oh blast, ungggh, ahhh...." Joran squirmed, his muscles rippling as he fought to stay still. "Haha- no, no, haha, master...."

"Ungghhh!" Joran's begging abruptly turned into a high pitched shriek as now his entire cock and balls were engulfed in an unbearable itch. He squeezed his hands tight in a desperate attempt to keep his hands where they were, causing his arms to bulge with the effort. 

"Continue dancing, Taeru," Halvate taunted. Joran stifled a lustful groan as the itch disappeared and his cock was tossed off rapidly.

"Master, please, mercy!" Joran begged, uncaring that he was doing so in the middle of the thronging market. The stimulation on his privates the entire morning was getting to him, and after a week of chastity, getting his cock tossed off but having the final orgasm denied him was just pure torture.

"No, Joran, no matter how much you beg. That cock is going to stay hard and unsated until I think you deserve release," Halvate said sternly. "Now, dance for me."

Joran gave a stifled scream as now itch exploded inside his cock.

\-------------------------------------------------------

"Seize Saidin."

Joran slowly entered the Void and seized the tumult of power. For a moment everything became sharper, the smells, colors, even the taste of the bile that he had vomited out just now - as well as the acrid tang of blood in the air.

His blood.

"Make a deathgate."

Joran wearily wove a weave of Spirit, Earth and Fire, and watched dispassionately as his small deathgate winked into existence. It shuttered open and closed a few feet back and forth the training yard before dying out completely. 

"Release Saidin."

Joran reluctantly obeyed. It was always hard letting go of the Source. However he had learnt long ago to resist its sweet temptation. Joran released Saidin along with the Void, and gasped as all the pain held at bay by the Void came flooding back.

"Too slow!" A thin bullwhip flashed across his naked chest and arms, indiscriminately leaving behind red welts crisscrossing his skin. Some welts had even broken, causing his blood to fly everywhere. Joran suppressed the scream building in his throat. Despite the terrible physical pain, it paled in comparison to what Halvate had already done to him through the a'dam. 

"Again!"

Joran welcomed the Void again, relishing in the dulled pain while in the blank, empty mind space. In the Void, with Saidin surrounding him in all its terrible beauty, the marks on his body were nothing but scratches. Joran made another deathgate - this one just a bit smaller due to his fatigue - and watched as it flickered out after a few passes around the courtyard.

"Are you mocking me, Taeru?! Drop your breeches this instant, I think a cock whipping is in order!"

Joran flinched as the bullwhip struck him hard across his back and shoulders. Light, that bullwhip was going to whip the skin off his dick. For a moment Joran thought of disobeying, but a look of warning from Halvate, and Joran reluctantly dropped the idea.

"Hurry up!" Another lash on his abs to encourage him. Joran flinched as a new broken welt appeared across his stomach, but kept resolutely silent. He was not going to give the blasted bastard the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Undoing his drawstrings, Joran stepped out of his loose breeches and kicked them to one side. He wasn't wearing any loincloth, which Halvate had told him was unnecessary for damaro. It made stripping that much faster.

It had been ten days since Joran's capture and submission to Halvate, and by now Joran was inured to the shame of displaying his naked body. As Halvate had told him, damaro and damane were considered animals by Seanchan standards - hardly anyone cared that he was naked. In any case, Joran had already had all semblance of modesty ripped away when he was taken out a few days ago into Falme. 

Compared to hours of the sexual torture in full exhibitionistic view of the crowded market with Joran's throbbing cock and lustful groans, mere nakedness was almost a relief.

Joran wondered how it was possible he could have changed that much in the short span of ten days. His old life, his old luxuries and excesses, his old inhibitions, seemed so distant that it was hard to imagine life other than as a damaro.

"Grab that dick and pull it up!"

Joran grudgingly obeyed, a frisson of fear running up his spine. While he had experienced much more than a bullwhip on his dick through the a'dam, none of that had done any actual damage and the phantom pain in his mind had faded after a good night's sleep. With the bullwhip, Joran was afraid that his manhood would break permanently. Would Halvate allow that?

"None of those pleading eyes! Halvate coddles you too much. A bit of blood and pain is what you need to get your channeling up to shape!"

Joran felt a pang of betrayal as Halvate only stared at him impassively. Why was he allowing this brute to mutilate him like that?

*Whoosh*

Despite his earlier resolve, Joran couldn't help but let out a scream as the tip of the bullwhip connected with his tender dick. Reflexively cupping his groin, Joran dropped to the ground, unable to remain standing as he curled up helplessly around his burning dick.

"Stand up before I string you up by your balls and whip your cock bloody!"

Joran whimpered as he struggled to his feet. His eyes sought out Halvate's, but the ice-blue orbs were devoid of compassion. Joran felt a flash of anger at the cold boy. Why could he allow this bastard to treat him like that? It wasn't as if Joran hadn't tried. He had been channeling for the whole day and was just simply exhausted. Besides, he had never been that strong in Fire to begin with. If he was forced further, there was a real possibility of burning himself out. 

"Pull that dick up Taeru!"

Joran screamed as another lash scored his tender dick.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Halvate seethed as he supported Taeru's broken body back to his chambers. Blast that rotting piece of grolm muck! He had heard stories about der'morul'dam Hido's cruelty, but this was the first time he had witnessed it first hand. That blasted bastard had deliberately pushed Taeru to his limits, and then whipped him until he was unable to stand, and then whipped him some more until he had passed out. Halvate sent another wave of strength through the a'dam, worried about his Taeru's half-dazed stumbling gait.

His Taeru? Since when had he started thinking of the big muscular damaro as his? It was dangerous thinking, as all damaro belonged to the Empress, may she live forever.

Taeru stumbled again, nearly depositing all of his weight onto the smaller Halvate. Halvate gritted his teeth in anger again. Damn that blasted Hido! 

Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it. Hido was a der'morul'dam, and Halvate had to obey no matter how much he disagreed with the training method.

When they reached his chambers, Halvate gently deposited the half-conscious Taeru on his bed, uncaring of the blood that immediately soaked his sheets. He wiped Taeru's sweat-drenched brow, alarmed when he felt heat emanating from Taeru's pale face.

Blast, his damaro had a fever. Halvate clenched his fists again in anger. This was why the a'dam was preferable to real physical punishment. There was no risk of infection, and with the phantom pain of the a'dam Halvate could easily relieve it. With real cuts, real blood, and a real fever, there was nothing Halvate could do.

Halvate tucked his blanket around Taeru's welted body and made to stand up. He was stopped short by Taeru's hand on his tunic.

"Master... why?" Taeru groaned weakly, as though in a feverish daze. "Haven't I been good? Why have you destroyed my cock?"

The soft pleading words broke Halvate's heart. He gently pried away Taeru's grip and sent a wave of strength through the a'dam. 

"I'm so sorry, Taeru, I will get you Healed and things will be alright again," Halvate whispered softly, almost to himself. Tucking Taeru's hand back into his blanket, Halvate went in search of the Healing damaro.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran awoke to a warm weight snuggled inside his arms. Opening his sleep-crusted eyes blearily, Joran thought for a moment that he was mistaken, for it looked distinctly like Halvate, his captor and master. Wiping the sleep away from his eyes, Joran blinked and stared at the boy he had been cuddling in his sleep.

It was Halvate.

It was the first time since his first night of capture that Halvate had shared his bed. Joran blinked again, and then realized that it wasn't even his pallet.

He was in Halvate's bed, cuddling his master like a lover. Abruptly, he was aware of his own nakedness, and a hot rigid pole crossing swords with his own morning erection.

Joran flushed a deep red. Immediately he tried to disentangle himself from the cuddle, which only caused Halvate to awaken.

"Had a good rest, Taeru?" Halvate rumbled in his silky baritone as he rubbed his eyes. For a moment Joran glimpsed the human boy underneath the cool exterior Halvate exuded, before his usual cold mask of impassivity slid into place. Joran wondered if he had imagined it.

"Good, it seems that you are refreshed and strong again," Halvate murmured as he concentrated. Of course, Halvate was reading his emotions and feelings through the a'dam.

"Do you remember much of what happened yesterday?" Halvate asked.

Joran thought back to the day before, abruptly remembering the whipping he had suffered under the der'morul'dam. Immediately Joran checked his body, amazed to see only thin, silvery, barely visible scars crisscrossed over his body. His dick was back to normal once more, no longer whipped into a bloody mess. The only evidence of the whipping were the lines of dried blood on Halvate's bed.

"You got me Healed?" Joran asked in surprise, a little touched. "Thank you master."

"You had a fever and the bleeding from your manhood would not stop," Halvate said matter of factly. "I had Taro Heal you, although it is imperfect and left behind scars."

That doesn't explain why I am in your bed, Joran thought, but decided not to press the issue. He thought he had the measure of his young captor now. The cold facade was really just a mask. Deep down inside was a tender boy who truly cared for Joran. Sure he could be a sadistic little bastard sometimes, but never without reason, and never to the point of unconsciousness.

Joran felt a burst of affection for the stern boy-master in front of him. It was strange, a few days ago he was raging against him, now Joran just wanted to hug him and feel his approval.

"You may hug me," Halvate said, a quirked eyebrow the only expression on his face. "The multiplied comfort for you through the a'dam would be beneficial to your recovery."

What a convoluted way to agree to cuddle, Joran thought, smiling inwardly. "Thank you, master," Joran said as he gingerly gathered the muscular and lithe boy in his arms. Halvate shifted closer, pressing the whole length of his naked body against Joran's, his head resting on Joran's bicep. They were close, almost breathing each other's breath. Joran adjusted his position to fit Halvate's, and stiffened as his 11 inch erection stabbed into his master's modest 7 incher. Before it could become awkward though, Joran felt a wave of relaxation through the a'dam. 

"Just relax, run your hands across my back like this."

Halvate demonstrated, running his hands down Joran's broad, muscular back to cup his butt, kneading the tense muscles along the way. Joran sighed in pleasure as Halvate stroked his skin. Light, it felt good.

"Try it on me."

Joran hesitantly explored Halvate's supple back with his hands. Now that he was so close to Halvate, he could see that his boy-master's golden yellow skin was also riddled with hair-thin, pale scars which looked suspiciously like his own. Joran though was prevented from further investigation by his own reaction.

"Oh, Light, unggh!" Joran moaned unwittingly as the simple pleasure of stroking was returned tenfold to his body through the a'dam. He cupped the back of Halvate's neck and kneaded, letting out a loud moan as soothing pleasure exploded across his own neck.

"Aaah, Light- what, why are you laughing?" Joran asked mid-moan when he caught Halvate chuckling amusedly.

"You look funny moaning like that," Halvate replied seriously. "Beautiful, but funny." He ran a finger along Joran's jaw, continuing down to Joran's muscled pecs.

"You know, in Seandar, if you test successful as a potential morul'dam, you are given the choice to be damaro or morul'dam," Halvate confided.

Joran's eyebrows rose. That he did not know. Fifty years after the Last Battle and he had thought the Seanchan were still vigorously denying that morul'dam and sul'dam could channel.

"They put a collar on you and ask you to knead the muscles of the morul'dam. You then wear the bracelet and try to make the damaro feel what you just felt. Then you are to make your choice to become damaro or morul'dam."

Halvate grinned. "Most choose to become damaro after that. The message is subtle but effective - damaros lead a life of pleasure as long as they obey. Of course, the much longer life and the fact that you are taken care of are also bonuses. Some morul'dam also choose to become damaro after a while, especially when they start to get on in years."

"Are there many more damaro than morul'dam?" Joran asked, curious, shivering in delight as his strokes on Halvate's skin were returned to him tenfold.

Halvate sighed. "Yes. Each year we have fewer and fewer who want to be morul'dam. One day Seandar will have no more morul'dam and no more sul'dam."

"And you master?"

"What about me?" Halvate asked.

"Do you want to become damaro?" Joran held his breath, unsure if his question would offend.

"I don't know yet," Halvate said, his ice-blue eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I have many years to serve before the benefits of being a damaro are apparent. I just hope that there will still be morul'dam left if I become damaro."

"And if there are no more morul'dam?"

"I don't know, Taeru," Halvate said heavily. "I don't know."


	9. Chapter 9

Halvate allowed Taeru to cuddle him for a while more, letting the tall damaro touch and stroke his body. Halvate snuggled deeper into Taeru's embrace, breathing in deeply the manly smell of his damaro and rubbing himself against Taeru's dark fur.

"Master, please," Taeru begged in a strained voice. 

Halvate opened his eyes and looked at Taeru in curiosity. "What?"

"Master, forgive me, but you are pushing yourself against my rod. I have not touched myself in weeks, and not being able to shoot is just..." Taeru looked deeply embarrassed by the admission.

Halvate chuckled. "I can feel your hardness and your need. It greatly pleases me that you are unable to find release. I like it when you are hard and dripping and suffering but absolutely unable to do anything about it."

Halvate ground his hips against Joran's erection, feeling a dark thrill when Taeru's handsome features grimaced in pleasure and suffering.

"Master..."

"Enough of that, Taeru. Come, it is time for our morning workout and breakfast. It has been some time since you have been naked, hasn't it?"

Halvate smiled as the a'dam swelled with horror. It was quickly followed by acceptance and a sense of resignation. Good. Taeru was learning to accept distasteful commands now.

"It has been three days since you tortured me in the market, master. I have learnt my lesson well."

"We'll see how you do today then. Stand."

Halvate took off the bracelet and hung it on Taeru's dripping pole as he dressed himself in a light shirt and loose breeches. He smirked when Taeru let out a groan of frustration when Halvate brushed the tip of his purple cock.

"I will have to punish you Taeru for groaning without permission," Halvate said sternly. Clapping the bracelet back on, Halvate sent a wave of lust to the damaro's cock, causing the big muscular man to moan and nearly buckle his knees.

"Uhhh, master... Taeru is sorry..."

Halvate looked on, fascinated as Taeru's 11 incher pulsed and spat out a few drops of clear slime. His knob was an angry purple, and his goose eggs, originally hanging low, were drawn up painfully tight against his body.

Sufficently satisfied by his choice of punishment, Halvate led the way out to breakfast.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran whimpered as he felt feather-light strokes on his cock, causing his massive rod to spit out even more slime.

Halvate had been doing it all day, making Joran whimper and convulse in need in stark view of everyone in the camp compound. He wasn't sure what Halvate was trying to achieve besides making his blue balls even worse.

"Seize Saidin."

Joran forced his thoughts away from his blue balls and dropped himself into the Void. He seized Saidin, revelling in the rush of power and ecstasy that was the One Power.

Now this gratification he could enjoy.

"Show me what you can do with Water." Halvate demanded.

They were standing by a small pool of water in the training yard, in the midst of fifty or so other damaro and damane who were also doing their daily training. While Joran wasn't the only one bare ass naked, he certainly was the only one hard and dripping like a horny dog.

Joran ignored his predicament and nodded. He started to go through the standard Asha'man weaves involving Water - fog, mist, sleet, hail, icicle spears, whirlpools - almost all the weaves taught in the Black Tower were battle weaves. 

He finished his repertoire with a weave that had always pleased him - a fountain in the middle of the pool, one that, for a change, had no real purpose other than making fountains pretty. 

Halvate nodded his head as he watched the beautiful changing shapes of the fountain. Joran smiled in pride. It was rare for a man to be strong in Water, but Joran was one of those rare ones. 

"Do you know a weave to purify water for drinking?" Halvate questioned. 

Joran nodded again in pride. It wasn't easy to learn the weave, and those not strong in Water couldn't even form the first layer. 

"I want you to pee and purify it," Halvate challenged.

Joran raised an eyebrow. Now that was just insulting. Recycling of body fluids was the first thing he had to learn when he became Dedicated in the Black Tower. 

Concentrating, Joran let loose a stream of piss from his erection. It was never easy to pee while hard, but at least Joran didn't have to worry about it going everywhere. He caught his stream in a simple knot of water, then, quick as thought, wove the four layers of the purification weave and laid it on top of his piss.

The ball of yellow liquid floating in the air gradually turned clear, until it sparkled in the morning sun. 

"Done, master."

Halvate stepped forward and dipped his fingers in the ball of liquid. He tasted it, approval flashing over his face.

"That tasted just like fresh mountain spring water," Halvate commended. "Not even a hint of piss."

Joran tried not to blush in pride. He was one of the best Asha'man in Water, although he did know several women who could purify water to the same extent as him.

"I think you will be very much coveted for, Taeru. It is rare, man or woman, to be able to purify water to such a degree of freshness. I assume you can also detect groundwater?"

Joran nodded.

"Better and better. It is Seandar's luck to have found you. I think a reward is in order. Would you like to find some release for your cock?"

Joran perked up as he nodded vigorously. "Yes master, thank you!"

"Alright, tonight I will enter you and give you the best release you can find. Don't make me regret my decision."

Joran nodded his head happily. Finally! His blue balls were going to get some relief.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran frisked impatiently as he knelt on the floor by Halvate's knee, waiting for him to finish his dinner. He had long ago wolfed down his own dinner. Halvate, the bastard, was making him wait. It was worse because he couldn't see Halvate's progress with his dinner. At the mess hall, damaro either sat or knelt on the floor by their morul'dam and ate from plates on the floor, while their masters dined on chairs and tables. 

"He sure is squirming a lot, your Taeru," the morul'dam opposite Halvate commented. "Not like my Nomi here." He reached a hand out to fondle his damaro's hair.

Nomi gave a low rumble of contentment. Joran could feel his master stiffening, although Halvate acted nonchalant. "Well," Halvate said with a hint of pride, "Today I found out that Taeru is a water-finder and a water-purifier. I promised him release tonight and he is being impatient."

The other morul'dam bristled, but Joran could sense the hidden envy. Nomi, the large, thick set damaro, frowned, although Joran wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't given release, or that his abilities were called into question. 

"Well even when I grant him release Nomi is much more well behaved than that."

"You are right of course," Halvate demurred. "He should be punished for not behaving appropriately." Without warning, Joran suddenly found himself caught in what Halvate called the bonds of fire.

They were simply bands of imaginary fire around his neck, wrists, chest, hips, and ankles, conjured in his mind by the a'dam. If Joran even shifted half an inch, he would touch the searing bands. He sweated as he held himself stock still. The kneeling position he was in was rapidly becoming uncomfortable. He had been locked in worse and more humiliating positions though, at least this was endurable.

"Much better," Halvate drawled.

Much to Joran's discomfort, Halvate continued the verbal sparring with his dinner partner while Joran sweated in his frozen position on the floor. Nomi was giving him looks of pity and commiseration, but it was all Joran could do not to move. To make matters worse, Halvate was still continually stimulating his dick, making it twitch and pulse and burble out copious amounts of slime.

Finally, after an interminable amount of time, Halvate finished his last bite of dinner. Joran collapsed onto the floor weakly when Halvate released the bonds of fire, but quickly got to his feet as Halvate pulled on the leash.

"You will comport yourself next time with sufficient decorum," Halvate rebuked. Joran lowered his head, feeling ashamed of himself. "Thank you for the lesson, master."

Halvate smiled. "Take care that you do. Now come."

Joran happily followed behind his master.


	10. Chapter 10

Halvate wasted no time when they returned to their chambers. Taking his clothes off, Halvate gestured to his damaro.

"Have you pleasured a man before?" Halvate asked.

Taeru shook his head slowly. 

"It's not that difficult. I will teach you." Halvate sat down on his bed and beckoned to Taeru.

"Kneel."

Halvate could feel Taeru's apprehension through the a'dam. 

"Just relax, this is meant to be a reward for you. The more you are able to please me, the more pleasure you yourself will get," Halvate explained. 

He cupped the back of Taeru's head and pulled his head to his well defined pecs.

"Suckle on my teat," Halvate whispered as he gently pressed Taeru's mouth against his pec. He sighed in pleasure as Taeru's hot mouth enveloped his nipple. What turned him on more though was Taeru's loud moan of pleasure vibrating through his nipple. 

"Oh yeah, use a bit of your teeth, Taeru, that's it..."

Halvate chuckled when Taeru's moans turned into whimpers of pleasure. 

"Feeling good, huh?"

Taeru nodded, his mouth still clamped around Halvate's right nipple. 

"Use your hand on my other teat," Halvate instructed.

Taeru squeezed his eyes in ecstasy and whimpered when both Halvate's nipples were manipulated. 

"You feel like your own nipples are bursting with pleasure don't you? They are so sore and tender you just want to lick and lick and lick-" Halvate reached down and twisted both Taeru's nipples.

Taeru gave a half-scream, his handsome face twisting in an expression of pain and rapture even as his mouth remained suckled on Halvate's nip.

Gently Halvate pulled Taeru's head back, a thrill running down his spine when he regarded Taeru's flushed expression.

"How was that?"

The expression on Taeru's face was one of wonderment and embarrassment, like a virgin on her nuptial bed discovering her first orgasm.

"Master, that was... Light, I never knew a man's milk sucklers could feel that way..."

"Like this?" Halvate teased as he took each of his nipples between his fingers and rolled them around, while sending a burst of ecstasy at Taeru's two teats.

Taeru almost screamed as he clapped his hands to his well-formed pecs.

"Master - that - that was like shooting but through my milkers," Taeru groaned. "They are so sensitive now, the slightest touch makes me tremble so..."

"Stand up, let me see your cock."

Taeru stood up, a little unbalanced from his nipple-orgasm. Halvate raised his eyebrows as Taeru's 11 in erection bobbed into view.

It was purple, it was erect, but more importantly, it was the longest and the stiffest Halvate had ever seen. Veins popped all along Taeru's orgasm-deprived flagpole, which stabbed into the air at a forty five degree angle, so stiff that it looked carved onto Taeru's body. His entire cock was drenched in slime, and his balls had receded into his body so much that they were barely visible at all.

It had been ten days since Halvate had snapped the a'dam around Taeru's neck after all. Ten days of chastity and non-stop stimulation. It looked incredibly painful.

"Do you want release?" Halvate teased.

"Yes, please, master. My plowstick is so hard it hurts so badly..."

"Only my hand can give you release. The a'dam denies you the final release otherwise."

"Please master..."

"I want you to enjoy this as long as possible. I am going to lie down and you are going to do whatever you want to me. Whatever I enjoy, you will enjoy tenfold."

Halvate leaned back as Taeru descended on him with a hungry expression.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran was almost crazy with need. Pleasuring Halvate was like a drug.

Like smoking hemp and growing wings to shoot straight into the clouds, the ecstasy so very overpowering.

Like gripping Saidin, feeling more full of life than ever, a tumult of power and pleasure coursing through his body. 

And yet, the release he sought stayed resolutely outside his reach. No matter how much stimulation and pleasure on his body, his cock just simply refused to shoot.

It was like the ability to come had been neutered. No matter how much he clenched and struggled, the final climax eluded him.

Joran was crying tears of frustration as he straddled his master, his lips nuzzling his master's neck, his fingers drawing circes around the Seanchan's dark brown nipples, as he frotted his dick vigorously against Halvate's 7in erection.

"Oh, master, unggh, I just want to come so badly...." Joran sobbed incoherently as he stepped up his ministrations on Halvate's body, planting kisses all over Halvate's muscular arms and chest, feeling the flutter of his lips magnified tenfold by the a'dam on his own body. 

He moved his kisses down, clamping his lips around a dark brown teat and began sucking it desperately. The other teat he rolled in his right hand, feeling the sensations magnified in his own sensitive nips.

"Unggh..."

Joran's groans intensified when Halvate used his hands to start tickling Joran's nipples.

"Like it, don't you," Halvate teased. "Use a bit of your teeth."

Joran grazed his teeth lightly over Halvate's nipple, gasping when a sharp ecstasy pierced his own nipple. He repeated the action, this time squeezing Halvate's other nipple too, and nearly screamed from the stimulation. 

Light, if he didn't already know it was impossible, he would have thought he was orgasming through his nips.

"Suck my pole, Taeru," Halvate commanded breathlessly. It seemed that it wasn't only Joran feeling aroused.

Joran hesitated for a fraction of a second, before his own need overcame him. Sliding down Halvate's taut, youthful body, Joran grabbed Halvate's rockhard 7 incher and closed his mouth over its head.

It tasted musky and salty, but Joran decided that it wasn't too bad. Experimentally he flicked his tongue under its head, and gasped from the lightning bolt of rapture that hit his own cock. 

"Light, master, this is-urfffgh-"

Halvate had pushed Joran's head down his cock, muffling whatever Joran wanted to say. Joran gave a moan of pleasure as his tongue massaged Halvate's mushroomy head. Whatever he was about to say was promptly forgotten as Halvate began to thrust into his mouth.

Joran half-screamed as his own cock exploded in overwhelming pleasure. Joran felt Halvate grab his hair and forcefully push his head down his cock, forcing it down Joran's throat. Joran's muffled yell was tempered by the incredible feelings between his crotch, so much so that he completely forgot he was the one whose mouth was so roughly abused. 

"The rougher I get, the better it will feel," Halvate panted as he held Joran's head down, forcing his cock deep into Joran's throat. Joran gagged, but that only served to excite both him and Halvate even further when his throat clenched around Halvate's cock.

Halvate released Joran and got to his feet.

"Lie down on the bed."

Joran massaged his throat as he complied. Light, he was so hard it felt like he might burst any moment, and the heightened stimulation only made his need to come much sharper. Joran didn't know if he could take much more stimulation without release. It was just so frustrating!

"Raise your legs."

Joran gingerly brought his knees to his chest and grabbed his thighs. He suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable as Halvate loomed over him. Halvate's cock pushed against Joran's virgin cherry, causing his sphincter to clench.

"Master... please, I've never done this before..." Joran admitted nervously. 

"Don't worry your cock will feel so good that you will not feel the pain. You feel that?"

Joran gasped as pleasure overwhelmed his sensitive cockhead. Halvate had just simply butted his glans against Joran's hole, but when magnified tenfold that was enough to send Joran reeling.

"Oh Light, that feels so good... Master, please stop torturing me and let me come..." Joran begged, frustrated and on edge.

"Oh yes I will let you come, but only after I have driven you out of your wits," Halvate whispered. "I want you begging for mercy and release by the end, and for your balls to feel so ripe and full that you wish you could just rip them off."

He leaned forward, pressing against Joran's legs with his muscular chest. "And as for this monster," Halvate glanced down at Joran's swollen 11inch tool, "I want it to drip enough slime to coat your entire body, I want it to drive you so mindless that you will try to touch your cock - even though you will receive a shock. Yet you will continue to touch and punish yourself, because your need is so overwhelming..."

Joran shivered as Halvate leaned down even further until they were nose to nose. "I want you to scream and beg, and know that I am the only one who can grant you that sweet release. I want you to know that your cock now belongs to me completely, and if I wish, you might just stay hard and dripping forever."

Joran's heart fluttered with apprehension and excitement at the thought of Halvate denying him release forever and gasped as his cock flexed painfully, spurting out a few drops of slime onto his abs.

"Are you ready?" Halvate asked, his baritone voice thick with lust. "I am not going to be gentle."

Joran nodded his head fractionally - and Halvate thrust straight into him.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Halvate was more aroused than ever as he watched his Taeru writhe and gurgle unintelligibly on the bed.

He could admit it freely now. Taeru was his, and no matter how often he reminded himself that all damaro were the property of the Empress, may she live forever, Halvate just couldn't stand the thought of sharing this perfect specimen of hunky male flesh.

He pulled out of Taeru's tight hole and thrust in forcefully, revelling in the tight warm passage which clenched around his pole. "Unggh!" Taeru squealed in a high-pitched voice, and Halvate felt a thrill of excitement as Taeru bucked his body, his handsome features twisted into a rictus of need and suffering.

"Master-" 

Halvate ignored Taeru's pleas and thrust in again, eliciting another squeal from the muscled damaro. Halvate watched with a dark thrill as Taeru's massive pole throbbed and ejected more spurts of slime which joined the pool on Taeru's sweaty abs. 

"Master, please- aahhhh!"

Halvate triple plunged into Taeru's sweet hole again, causing the damaro to arch his back and scream in pleasure and frustration.

"Master, please..." Taeru sobbed. "I need to shoot so badly..."

Halvate's cock twitched as he regarded his tall, manly damaro sobbing tears of frustration. Taeru had clamped his arms around his thighs in an effort not to touch his cock, his muscles taut with tension.

"Put your hands on your head," Halvate ordered. Taeru gingerly complied, stretching out his muscular chest and causing his arm muscles to bunch up sexily. Halvate resisted a groan of pleasure as he took in the sight of his hunky, handsome slave underneath him.

"Beg me again," Halvate demanded.

"Master, please let me shoot..."

Halvate's cock clenched as he looked at Taeru's frustrated and suffering expression. Light, being in control via the a'dam already gave Halvate a massive power trip, but to have the big, muscled guy beg pathetically for his permission to shoot...

"I will, just maybe later," Halvate teased, causing the poor damaro to groan miserably.

"You are in for the ride of your life," Halvate said as he grabbed Taeru's hairy legs and stretched them even further apart, opening up Taeru's hole so he could thrust even deeper. Without giving him any warning, Halvate started plunging in and out of Taeru's hot bottom. Taeru gave a cry of pleasure as Halvate pounded his hole in earnest, each thrust causing the muscled body underneath him to writhe and buck as though experiencing the utmost ecstasy.

Halvate smiled as he regarded the muscular damaro he was making cry out the most sublime of noises. His damaro was sweat-streaked, his dark fur drenched and matted against his pale skin, his muscles rippling as he bucked and writhed his body, unable to stand the magnified pleasure shooting through his cock. Taeru's arms bulged from the effort of holding himself back from touching his cock, and with each thrust he would cry out and whimper, and his massive rod would pulse visibly, spitting out long streams of slime which by now had completely drenched his stomach and chest.

Halvate leaned down further, pressing down on Taeru's legs until the muscular damaro was folded in half, his purple cock jutting into his hairy, sweaty pecs.

Halvate looked into Taeru's silver-grey eyes, now completely feverish with need and arousal, as he plunged deep into Taeru's hole.

"Master... please..."

Ah, Taeru's begging eyes, with his arms locked behind his head, his vulnerable body twisting and writhing from Halvate's cock deep inside him. The power trip was intoxicating.

"We have all night, Taeru."

"No!" Taeru sobbed. "Please... my cock hurts so badly master..."

Halvate smiled evilly. "I don't think you're desperate enough."

"Master, please... I beg you, please let me shoot, I'll be a good damaro, please just let me shoot..."

"Eventually, my dear Taeru. But only if you're good."

"Master... I'll be good, please, haven't I been a good damaro for you?"

Halvate nodded his head as he smiled. Light he loved seeing big muscular men writhing under him and begging for release.

"Ok, since you said you'll be good.. maybe I'll let you come tomorrow instead," Halvate teased.

"No master! You promised Taeru..."

"Oh yea, forgot about that," Halvate smirked, a thrill running through him as his damaro whimpered in frustration.

"Squeeze my teats, Taeru," Halvate commanded, even as he continued to thrust.

Taeru whimpered as he complied. Halvate smiled as Taeru howled in ecstasy.

"Keep on howling like that and you'll make me come," Halvate growled. He released Taeru's furry legs, which wrapped around his hips instinctively, and reached down to pinch Taeru's nipples.

"Ahhh master!"

Halvate grinned. He was so going to enjoy the night.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran's mind was a complete mess. All he could think about was the overwhelming ecstasy running through his body. 

With each thrust Joran felt as though his cock would explode. And his balls...

Halvate was right, they felt so tender and full of seed that Joran really wanted to tear them off.

And then there was the nipples. Every flick across Halvate's nipples sent paroxysms of rapture through the a'dam back to his own. At the same time, Halvate was pinching Joran's nipples, mixing in sharp stabs of pain with the overwhelming pleasure, and with each pinch Joran would cry out in arousal, his tender nipples so sore he swore Halvate seemed to be milking them.

And then there was his ass.

His virgin, cherry hole, which Halvate had plundered so thoroughly. Even though Halvate's cock wasn't as large as Joran's, it still felt big, almost too big for Joran's tight ass. And Halvate was thrusting straight into a specific spot that, even without the a'dam's intensity, was making Joran squeal and spasm wildly.

"Master... please!" Joran cried out. Light, Joran had never felt more humiliated than ever, having to beg for release, as though he was no longer a man. Paradoxically, the humiliation excited him, which only added on to his frustration.

It was undeniably the best sex Joran had ever had, except for the tiny fact that he could not come.

Joran sobbed as Halvate plunged away at his virgin cherry. His whole body was taut with need, and he didn't even want to think about his cock which had swollen into a purple monster bulging with veins. His foreskin had peeled back all the way, exposing his angry, purple mushroom which dribbled slime copiously onto his pecs.

Throughout all this while, his cock had been completely untouched. It ached so fiercely that Joran feared it would literally burst with need.

"Oh Taeru, the night is just starting. I haven't even used the a'dam on you yet and you are already at your limit?" 

"Master?" Joran questioned fearfully as he stared into Halvate's eyes.

"Well, for example, an itch up your ass that only my cock can relieve," Halvate replied, his eyes blue-green with desire.

Joran gasped as the inside of his ass started to itch. He clenched his eyes shut and groaned uncontrollably when his sphincter spasmed around Halvate's cock, in turn causing his own to explode in ecstasy.

"Oh Light, please master, this is... you're killing me..." As much as Joran didn't want to admit it, the humiliation of begging his master turned him on like crazy.

"Oh yeah," Halvate groaned huskily as he leaned in close to Joran, his young boyish face mere inches away from Joran's even as he pumped away. "And what about an itch on your cock?"

Joran whimpered as an uncontrollable itch came over his cock. Unthinking, he stretched a hand over to his cock, only to get the rudest shock of his life as his poor dick was zapped.

"Ahhh!" Joran yelled, his lust momentarily abated by the pain, before flooding back with a vengeance, stronger and more demanding than ever. Joran whimpered shrilly as his cock pulsed painfully without release.

"Master, that was evil," Joran groaned pitifully. Light, at this rate he would have to cut off his cock, it was physically hurting him so much now.

"Oh yeah, I want to torture you senseless, beg me," the young morul'dam commanded.

"Master, please... please let your damaro Taeru shoot," Joran half sobbed. He started referring to himself in the third person the way he had heard other damaro say. "Taeru will be a good boy, he will do what master commands. Please master, you can torture Taeru in Falme or anywhere, just let me come!"

"Oh yeah," Halvate panted heavily as he plunged away at Joran's hole. "Light, you are such a handsome damaro, my Taeru. I am getting close. We will come together."

"Yes master!" Joran whimpered as Halvate pounded his poor ass faster and faster, a sense of urgency to his strokes now. The pleasure on his cock was building up, and as he stared into Halvate's sweaty face, he saw Halvate smile. 

"Lock your hands behind your head," Halvate ordered. 

A light itch started building up in his ass, his cock, his nipples, even on his blue balls. Joran whimpered piteously as he realized what Halvate was going to do to him.

"Master, Taeru needs to shoot so badly, please don't torture Taeru any more..." Joran begged even as he raised his arms and put his hands behind his head. He felt helpless and exposed in this position, and it was a struggle not to scratch the building itch and overwhelming need on his sex. 

"Ah Taeru, you are so beautiful," Halvate panted as he drove his hips into Joran's butt. "Scream for me."

Joran howled as light whips began to whip him across his engorged cock even as red hot needles stabbed into his tender nipples. Unlike his punishments, this time the light pain only fed on the excitement reaching a crescendo in him, sharpening his ecstasy with an edge that made Joran hunger for more. 

"Oh Light, master, Taeru is going crazy," Joran whimpered as another wave of red-tinged ecstasy rocked him, causing him to buck his sweat soaked body.

"Oh yeah. scream for me my damaro."

Joran gasped and screamed as red-hot pain stabbed his balls and cock. 

"Ahhh! Master have mercy- unggghhh!" Joran's muscled body spasmed and quivered as suddenly wave after wave of pain and pleasure crashed against his body, driving the crest up higher and higher, until he was literally teetering on the edge, helpless like a leaf in the wind as sheer sexual ecstasy flooded his senses.

"Master! Master! Please!" Joran screamed, his eyes clenched shut and his body taut with need, like a bursting dam held back only by the tiniest bit of rope. He felt Halvate grab his jaw and opened his eyes. He locked eyes with Halvate's blue-green ones, and in that instant, Halvate reached down and flicked his finger across Joran's piss slit.

The world shattered. 

"AHHHH!" Joran screamed and screamed as weeks of pent-up frustration exploded from his tortured cock, rocketing over his head to splash against the wall of the bed. Rope after rope of white come was wrenched from his balls, spurting into the air like a geyser, like a fountain, as Halvate's and his own climax convulsed and roared through his body. 

Like hurtling through the sky, his whole body locked in a helpless rictus of ecstasy as his abused cock erupted uncontrollably again and again in the most earth-shattering orgasm he had ever experienced in his life.

The only thing Joran heard before he passed out was a disbelieving gasp and a choked question. 

"Father?"


	11. Chapter 11

Joran jerked awake.

He blinked. He appeared to be in an unfamiliar bed. A real bed, with quilt covers and soft fluffy pillows.

He was even wearing clothes. Just a loincloth, but it was more than what he had worn to sleep ever since his capture.

His capture! With a start Joran clapped his hands to his neck, shocked to find that the heavy ring of metal around his neck was gone.

Joran entered the Void, and hesitantly seized Saidin.

Sweet delight coursed through him as the One Power rushed through his body. He grabbed all that he could handle, revelling in the sheer joy of just holding the Power, something which had been denied him since his capture.

He was loath to do it, but he forced himself to let go of Saidin and seized it a few more times just to be sure he could.

A tear slipped out of his eyes. He was free.

"Father?"

Joran snapped his head around to the voice, disbelieving.

"Dorian?"

"Father!"

A young man, a boy, really, built so much like Joran, ran across the room and grabbed Joran in a crushing hug.

"Father! I thought I had lost you for sure..." Dorian sobbed disconsolately onto Joran's bare shoulder. Joran hugged his son back, tears falling out of his eyes as he patted his son's back.

"I... let me look at you," Joran choked out. He pulled back and regarded his twenty year old son. Like father, like son. Both sported silvery-grey eyes, dark hair and a chiselled jaw line. But where Joran had a rugged handsome look to him, his son was stunningly handsome on quite another level. 

Joran had last seen his son a few weeks before his capture, to encourage him for his Ordeal of the Asha'man. Then, his son had been a nervous young man, unsure of himself and his abilities. Now, much to his pride, all he saw was a confident young man who walked with his shoulders squared, his back straight, and, much to Joran's delight, a dragon pin attached to the lapels of his black coat.

"You passed the Ordeal! That's my son!" Joran pulled his son back into a hug and thumped his back enthusiastically.

"Thanks Father," Dorian said. "But you... I'm so sorry I took so long to rescue you." Dorian wiped tears away from his eyes.

"You- you rescued me?" Joran asked, shocked. "B-but how did you find me?"

"You are my father, I simply made a dowsing device using my blood. It took me a few days to figure out where you had gone, and then I waited for an opportunity to sneak into the Seanchan compound and Traveled back with you."

Joran looked at his son, who was suddenly blushing a deep red and was avoiding his eyes. Abruptly Joran remembered the circumstances under which his son must have found him.

An awkward silence fell.

"I- uh," Joran said sheepishly. "Well this is awkward isn't it. But Dorian, I have to thank you so much. I had given up on escape already..." Joran's eyes clouded over as memories of his capture washed over him. He still couldn't believe he was free.

"Father... I saw how they tortured and humiliated you... don't worry, the Seanchan will pay for this," Dorian said, vengeance twisting his handsome features.

"The Seanchan... you mean mas- I mean, Halvate?" Joran stumbled over his words in a hurry to get them out. For some reason, he felt something akin to panic as he thought about Halvate. "You brought him back too?"

"Yes," Dorian said, surprise evident on his face. "He's in the cells. Why - hey wait!"

"What?" Joran stopped in his tracks and asked impatiently. 

"Um father, at least put on a coat... and do you even know where this is or where the cells are?"

Joran was abruptly reminded of his near nakedness. Light, he had gotten so used to his own nakedness that he didn't even notice it anymore. Could ten days of capture really have changed him so much?

"Uh thanks, son. So... where is this? And you have something for me to wear?"

Dorian tossed him some clothes and a standard black Asha'man coat which clearly belonged to him. "We're back at the Black Tower, Father. This is my new quarters."

"Oh." Joran hurriedly shrugged into his son's clothes, marvelling at how well they fitted him, considering that Dorian had still been a lanky teenager not just a few years ago. "Thanks, son. Which cell is he in?"

"The lowest dungeon - hey wait!"

Joran was already gone.

\-------------------------------------------------------

"Joran! Glad you're back with us, man," the Asha'man guard slapped him on his back as Joran hurried into the cells. "I heard your son tell us what you went through, those Seanchan dogs!" He spat on the ground in disgust.

"Hey Marvin, thanks, I still can't believe I'm free..." Joran said as he scanned the cells impatiently. "Say, Marvin, where is the Seanchan?"

Marvin suddenly turned stoic, and from the way the air grew menacing around him, Joran could tell that he had seized Saidin. "Blazes, man, what is that for?!" Joran said in surprise.

"No visitors allowed, Joran, especially you. We know how damaro who are freed act towards their previous masters. I will restrain you if I must," Marvin replied coldly.

Joran sighed. It was worth a try, at least. He knew the rules as well as anybody. Worried about Halvate, Joran asked, "At least tell me he's fine."

Marvin looked away. "He's fine."

"You're lying," Joran growled. "At least send a healer. I don't want him to die."

Marvin sighed and ran a hand through his dark locks. "He's not gonna die, he's just been roughened up a little."

Joran contemplated Marvin for a second, wondering if he could take him on in a fight. He discarded the thought a second later. It would not do to cause a ruckus, even if he was stronger in the Power than Marvin.

"Could you at least let me see him? Use a far-seeing weave or something."

Marvin sighed and stretched out his hand. "The things I do for you man, you owe me a friggin' drink."

"Thanks, I don't know if I still have my possessions, or if that blasted Kieran took everything, but first chance I get I'll treat you to Domani's very best."

"I'll hold you to that," Marvin muttered. "Here he is."

Joran looked into the silvery mirror that Marvin had woven in the air. He gasped.

Halvate was naked and bound in the same kind of pillory that had so tortured Joran before. His balls were even strung up to the ceiling of the dark, dank cell, causing the young man to raise his ankles and put all his weight on his toes. 

Joran could still remember keenly the kind of pain he had gone through in the pillory. He watched Halvate's impassive face with amazement. His muscles must have been cramping in that position, and yet Halvate didn't even show a grimace. 

"Are those whip marks on him?" Joran exclaimed. Upon closer look in the dark cell, Halvate's body was riddled with whip marks that bled, leaving streaks of blood running down his body.

"Light, who beat him up so badly?! Send a Healer!"

Marvin sighed and unraveled the weave, closing off the view of Halvate. "You know how these Seanchan dogs are treated, he's not the first to have been captured. You know, I would have thought you would want to torture him to death." Marvin regarded Joran suspiciously. "Last I heard, he tortured you every day and night. And parading you around naked in Falme..." Marvin spat on the ground again. "And the worst part is the a'dam and what they do to us."

Joran shook his head. He hated all the torture and humiliation, but he understood that Halvate was just fulfilling his role as a morul'dam. Killing Halvate wouldn't solve the problem, and it wasn't even Halvate's fault that Joran had been captured in the first place. Ever since the Dragon's peace, no Seanchan had captured channelers from the westlands, except for those they received in the black market.

Besides, once Joran had started to obey, Halvate had been nothing but kind and effusive in his affection. Joran still remembered with heated cheeks the mind-blowing orgasm he had prior to being rescued.

"Be that as it may. Still I don't want him permanently injured. Don't we have a retraining policy for morul'dam?"

"Yes, but that's only if he agrees to learn to channel. He doesn't. Besides, we'll have to undergo trial before the Storm Hands before he can start learning."

Joran sighed. "We're not savages, Marvin, we can't stoop to the same level as the Seanchan. Could you just get him Healed? He Healed me when I was hurt, and I'd do it myself if I could heal more than a bruise."

"Your son wouldn't like it, Joran. He's the one who pilloried the Seanchan."

"Dorian? Really?"

"Yeah. Ask him for yourself." Marvin shrugged and cocked his head in the direction of the entrance.

Joran turned to face his son, who strode into the cells, his face angry.

"Father, how can you give that monster any mercy after what he did to you?!"

"Son..." Joran regarded his son's face and hesitated. He wasn't sure why he was sticking up for Halvate now. Perhaps it was that Halvate had Healed him after Hido had whipped him bloody, or the fact that Joran had screamed and shot like a geyser while riding his cock, or even that Joran had felt a rush of protectiveness when he had cuddled the young master in his arms. Regardless, it hurt Joran to see Halvate suffering.

"You know how we learn about damaro who willingly go back to their captors even when freed," Dorian said with a disgusted sneer. "I never knew you'd be like one of them, Father."

"Son, that's not what I meant," Joran tried to explain. "Look, you're right, he tortured me, but Halvate isn't really responsible for it so much as the bloody empire itself. Here we are torturing him because he tortured me - two wrongs don't make a right, Dorian. I thought I taught you better than that."

Dorian clenched his fists. When he spoke, his voice trembled. "I just hate him so much for putting you through all that. I saw it all Father..." 

Joran stepped forward to embrace his son. "Dorian... I'd be happy if you're not ashamed of me for giving up... there's no need to seek revenge."

Dorian gave Joran a tight squeeze before letting go and stepping back. "If that's what you want I'll heal him and release him from the pillory."

Joran gave his son a smile of relief and ruffled his hair. "Thank you so much my son. I haven't said it enough, but I'm really proud of you."

Dorian returned the smile, then nodded to Marvin, who let him pass into the dungeon. Five minutes later Dorian returned, looking a little more tired. "It's done."

"Thanks son. Thanks Marvin," Joran said in relief. "A bottle of Domani's finest I promise you. And son, we've yet to celebrate your Ordeal and your rescue of your old man. What say you to a round of drinks and fun about town, man to man?"

Dorian grinned this time. "You're on, father."


	12. Chapter 12

Halvate wrapped the thin excuse of a blanket around his naked body as he shivered in the cold, dank cell.

On the whole, Halvate surmised, the Asha'man were more lenient than he had thought. There were stories of how the morul'dam and sul'dam were viciously tortured by the channelers when captured. That had happened to him, but had only lasted a disappointing half a day before the very man who had put him in the pillory came stomping back to release and Heal him.

Halvate's stomach grumbled. They still hadn't given him any food.

He practised the cool calm indifference that he had learned during his training to ignore the cold and hunger. It helped, somewhat.

He wondered what would happen to him now. He had been told that the westerners had a retraining policy to train anybody who could channel. For morul'dam though, it was either learn to channel or be killed. Those who did learn to channel never stepped foot in Seandar again - they had been corrupted beyond measure by the Westerners' ideals, that they couldn't stand coming back to Seandar as a damaro. 

For Halvate though, there was no question what he would choose.

For a moment he regretted the fact that he would no longer have the big muscular Taeru squirming and writhing underneath him as he plowed his ass.

"Hey you Seanchan dog, get up!"

It was the rescuer who had come back again. Halvate had heard him call Taeru 'Father' before he had been knocked out. At first glance both Taeru and this man looked to be more like close brothers instead of father and son, mostly due to the Power slowing down aging. Halvate knew that the earlier you started working with the Power, the earlier the slowing. Which explained why Taeru, with his forty something winters, still looked like a young man fresh out of teenagehood.

"I'm speaking to you, blast it!" 

Halvate felt an invisible whip of Air strike him across the back. He flinched, but did not cry out. This was child's play compared to his training.

Still, Halvate slowly got to his feet.

"Drop the blanket, dog! Be glad I Healed you. I'd have ripped your nuts out for doing all that to my father," the man snarled.

Cool, calm, indifference.

Halvate strode out of the cell with the Asha'man following closely behind. He could tell that the man was itching for an excuse to beat him up, but he simply obeyed all his instructions and rough prodding. There was no battle to be won here.

Before long the two of them emerged from the cells into daylight. Halvate blinked as his eyes tried to adjust to the sudden brightness. When it cleared, though, he took in a sudden intake of breath.

He was in what seemed like a village. There were women and children running around, horses and carts weaving their way through the crowds, amidst black-coated Asha'man striding along with purpose. There was a susurrus of voices as Halvate emerged naked from the cells, but other than gently steering the children away, not many people gave him much attention. In the distance stood a tall tower made of black stone, tall and imposing.

Halvate took in the scene with a measure of shock. He hadn't really thought about the lives marath'damaro would have led before being captured, he had always assumed they had popped up from somewhere. The Seanchan teachings had always said that channelers needed the a'dam to remain stable and safe around other people, but here they were living amidst women and children. He even saw an Asha'man kissing his wife.

Halvate jerked back to his senses as he was prodded again by that insufferable man. 

"Get going you Seanchan dog!" He growled.

Halvate bit back an annoyed retort. Again, this was neither the time nor place.

The two of them slowly marched to the Black Tower in the distance, one being prodded along, the other taking pleasure at using the Power to whip him lightly, causing Halvate to jump and flinch. Even though Halvate knew that his tormentor was parading his naked body throughout the village in revenge for what he had done to Taeru, Halvate couldn't help but grit his teeth at the incompetence of the man. His lashes had no inventiveness to them, and if his objective was to humiliate Halvate, he had failed terribly.

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, they finally arrived at the gates of the Tower, where two Asha'man nodded to them and let them pass. As they entered the Tower, the atmosphere grew heavier and more menacing. Halvate wondered if it was because of the structure, or because of the sheer amount of Saidin being channeled here.

They mounted a flight of stairs, before stopping at a set of double doors. The surly man knocked on the doors, which then opened.

"Enter, then, dog," he snarled as he gave Halvate a shove. Halvate stumbled into the room, and stopped short at the display in front of him.

It was a big, rectangular room, the spartan walls made of black stone like much of the Tower. There were sweeping windows lined along one side of the wall, letting in the daylight which illuminated the room. In the middle of the room was the only furnishing in the spartan room - a table where three Asha'man were seated. Standing off the side, to his surprise, was Taeru.

Joran, rather, Halvate reminded himself. He looked smart and neatly coiffed in his black, Asha'man coat, with his hair slicked back, looking sharp and imposing. It was a far cry from the Taeru who had tearfully submitted to Halvate.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Halvate thought he saw worry in Joran's eyes, but Joran turned away and broke eye contact.

"Kneel," came the command. Invisible weaves of Air forced Halvate onto his knees.

"Halvate, training to be a morul'dam, recently captured in the rescue of Joran Vinstone. Charged with crimes of using the a'dam on Joran Vinstone and torturing him using said object," the Asha'man on the right spat.

Halvate could literally feel the disgust and hate rolling off him.

"Nevertheless, the policy of the Black Tower is to train without prejudice any who can channel," the man in the middle said, his gravelly voice tempered with reason. "Do you accept, Halvate Toraeus, to train as a Soldier of the Black Tower?"

Halvate looked up at the man in the middle. Contrary to most of the young-looking men here, the man in the middle had a grey beard trimmed short. Halvate wondered how many years this man would have seen. It was always hard to tell with channelers. A hundred? Two?

"The alternative is death, Halvate. We cannot allow you to return to Seandar after you have taken one of us."

Halvate glanced at Joran, regret settling into his bones. He would miss the feel of Joran's hard muscles and beautiful cries.

"No. I choose death."

It was the honorable thing to do.


	13. Chapter 13

"No!"

Halvate looked up, surprised. That had been Joran.

"Father! What are you doing!"

Joran ignored his son and rushed to Halvate's side. He knelt down beside Halvate and bowed his head in deference.

"Storm Hand Aldurn, I invoke warder rights. I claim full responsibility for this man and make him my warder. As a warder, he is absolved of all his crimes and I will take full ownership of his future actions."

Halvate eyed Joran, wondering why he would put himself on the line for his previous captor and torturer. The Joran he had first captured wouldn't have hesitated to kill him. However Joran resolutely refused to meet his eye.

"Joran," Aldurn said. "There has only been one precedent for such an action, and the Asha'man and his warder both died. Are you quite sure you know what you are doing?"

Halvate wondered what Joran was trying to do. He had no idea what this warder thing was about. In fact, he had never heard of it before.

"Yes, Storm Hand. I have thought about it for a few days now and I've made my decision."

There was a disgusted grunt from Joran's son, and more whispers between the three men seated at the table. Before long, the whispers stopped and Aldurn spoke again.

"It is your decision, Joran Vinstone, to assume the crimes of Halvate Toraeus and to take him as your warder. The Storm Court accepts this decision. You may perform the bond now."

Before Joran could get up, Halvate spoke dryly, "Does my choice not matter in this decision at all?"

Silence befell the court room. Halvate turned to Joran and looked him in the eye.

"Why do you want me to live?"

Joran looked flustered as he grappled for an answer. For a moment, Halvate thought Joran was not going to answer, but he was surprised when Joran opened his mouth.

"I- I don't know," Joran said haltingly. "All I know is that in the ten days we were together as master and slave... I-" Joran broke off, his cheeks reddening. "I- I felt something here-" Joran pointed to his heart. "And if you die, I will feel like part of me has died."

There was absolute silence in the room.

Halvate felt his heart twist at Joran's words. His resolution to die was wavering. "And this warder thing - like a da'covale?"

"Uh - no, not really. It's like, a bond that shares feelings and strength, but it works a little differently on men who can channel, I don't know -"

"I will be your da'covale," Halvate declared. It was the only way to restore his honor if he was denied the final dignity of death. "Master, please accept me as your slave."

Halvate turned to Joran, who looked at him agape with shock, and prostrated himself on the floor. He shivered as his naked body pressed against the cold stones, but he kept his position. Nobody would say that Halvate Toraeus - no, Halvate Vinstone, rather, since he was property of Joran now - had stained his honor by refusing to die. He had simply been enslaved by his captor.

"N-no, it's not like that -"

"Please accept me as your slave or let me die with honor, master," Halvate interrupted. He couldn't bear the shame of it all. Why was Joran so wishy-washy about this?

Halvate heard a sigh of frustration from Joran. "Fine, get up and let me perform the bond."

Halvate got to his knees and stared at the floor in proper da'covale behavior.

"Look at me." Joran sounded exasperated.

Halvate raised his eyes, but stopped at Joran's chin. It would not do to meet his master's eyes.

"For Creator's sake, look at me in the eyes, blast it!"

Halvate hesitantly met Joran's silvery grey eyes, which were roiling in emotions. Years of matching the a'dam's feelings to damaros' expressions had given Halvate a keen sense of observation, and Halvate thought he could see frustration, worry, concern, maybe even happiness, storming in Joran's eyes.

Joran stretched out a hand and placed it on Halvate's bare chest, right over his heart. Before he could question further, he felt the telltale menace from Joran indicating that he had seized Saidin. A moment later, a warmth settled over his body.

Halvate gasped. His senses were sharper, his body more alive, his blood even thrumming with energy as it pounded through his veins. But above all that, he was suddenly aware of a second presence, a warm, solid presence ensconced in his mind where the a'dam's ball of sensations usually was.

He examined the presence with his mind, using the skills he had developed with the a'dam. He could feel anger, frustration, worry, even a hint of tiredness, but underlying all that, was a deep warmth that Halvate didn't recognize.

With a jerk of realization, Halvate realized that the presence was Joran.

"It is done. The court is adjourned," Aldurn intoned.

The three Asha'man at the table picked themselves up and strode away to the door. Within a few moments, there was only the two of them and Joran's son remaining in the room.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Father."

"Dorian... I do. Really. I can tell he feels the same way as I do."

Dorian only sighed and hugged Joran tightly. "Father... I will always love you no matter what."

Halvate could sense the deep burst of affection in Joran through the bond. To Halvate's discomfort, it felt suspiciously similar to the warmth he had felt from Joran when Joran had looked at him.

"And I you, Dorian. Thank you for rescuing me and bringing Halvate back as well - you have protected me when it should have been I protecting you... you make me so proud, son."

Halvate stared at the ground in passive silence as he let the two men embrace each other. He was a good da'covale and would blend into the surroundings, but he couldn't help but feel a flash of jealousy at the closeness Joran and his son shared.

He heard a pair of boots exit the room, and then a finger under his chin, tipping his head up.

"Master - no, I should call you Halvate now, shouldn't I?"

"You may name me however you want, master," Halvate replied deferentially.

"Light, what is with you Seanchan, I don't understand you sometimes!" Joran suddenly expelled. "First you go all dominant on me, now you're all subservient and passive!"

"I am your da'covale, master," Halvate replied stoically. In truth he hated being submissive, but that was his role now and he would obey.

Joran sighed and collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. "I guess there is no helping it. You are not my da'covale. There is no such thing as da'covale in the Westlands."

"I am Seanchan, and I have to be da'covale or die in honor." Halvate replied, keeping his head down.

"Argh!" Joran cried out in frustration. "Fine. As you wish. Follow me, I need to get you clothed at least. Wear this for now."

Halvate stiffened as Joran shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him.

"Da'covale do not wear clothes, master. We are permitted only the transparent sokrun, or we have to be naked. Only in winter can we wear a coat, and it is not winter here."

Belatedly, Halvate realized that he had just lectured his master. "With my utmost respect, master." He prostrated himself on the floor again, forehead to the ground.

"Halvate, stop this ridiculousness at once. I can tell you're not happy being a da'covale - you can't lie through the bond. I'm not asking you to be da'covale. I am asking you to be my warder."

Halvate raised his head warily and regarded Joran's chin. "What is warder, master?"

"Well," Joran replied as he sat back down and leaned an elbow thoughtfully on his knee. "With other Asha'man they usually bond their wives. Some have bonded other Aes Sedai, who are also women, but they usually end up being lovers as well. I don't think I know of an Asha'man bonding another man who is not his lover."

Halvate's eyes grew round. When Joran spoke of bonding, there had been an undercurrent of affection that had warmed up the bond. If that was what he meant...

"For the Aes Sedai warders are just like their protectors, a man who can physically protect them while they wield the Power. For Asha'man, since we usually travel and operate in small teams, we don't have the same need. Besides, most men are uncomfortable being so intimate with other men." Joran hesitated for a second, and then plunged onwards. "So for us, the bond is primarily used to share feelings and emotions with our lovers."

Joran tipped Halvate's chin up and looked at him seriously.

"I think you understand what is a warder now."

Shivers ran down Halvate's spine.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Joran sighed in exasperation as he flopped onto his bed.

He was in his own quarters now at the Black Tower. Well, Black Village, rather, as only the highest ranking Asha'man had quarters within the Tower. When Joran had earned his dragon pin, he had been assigned a small hut near the Tower, where he had brought up Dorian with the help of the village women. Now that his son had become an Asha'man himself, Dorian had been assigned a cottage nearby. That had been where Joran had woken up after his rescue. 

Joran raised his head to look at the kneeling Halvate at the corner of the room, and then thumped his head back down again.

The ex-morul'dam was being obtuse on purpose.

A week had passed since Joran had explicitly told him that he considered Halvate a lover and not a slave. Since then, Halvate had done nothing but insist on the proper decorum as a da'covale. 

Which, according to his warped mind, meant shaving his entire body and staying naked all day while doing all the menial chores in the hut.

Like all Asha'man, Joran had been trained to do all his chores with the Power, and could have easily done everything from his bed. And much faster too. Yet Halvate had insisted on doing everything while flaunting flagrantly his lithe, young body. It had become a village spectacle to see the naked young man washing Joran's clothes every morning, or sweeping his yard, or watering his plants, or whatever. 

What was most intriguing though was the strange body dance that he had done every dawn when the day broke. Halvate had explained that that was how most Seanchan morul'dam kept themselves fit, but to do it naked and in the front yard in full view of everyone? It was disturbingly sexy and showed off Halvate's boyish muscles to great effect.

That man had completely no understanding of modesty. And Joran wanted to beat up everyone who was ogling Halvate.

Joran sighed again. Well, he could force Halvate not to do it, but that would mean going back on his word that Halvate was not a slave. What a maddening dilemna!

"Come here, Halvate."

"Yes master."

There was a sound of shuffling. Joran raised his head only to realize that instead of walking like a normal person, Halvate was crawling across the room towards him. 

Joran wanted to scream in frustration.

"I am here master."

Joran could feel Halvate's mild annoyance through the bond, which irritated him. He didn't know why Halvate insisted on being a slave even though he clearly hated it, but it was infuriating. 

"I've had enough of your stupid games," Joran snarled as he jumped to his feet. "You want to be a slave? You want to submit? Alright you have your wish. I'm beyond caring now."

Joran seized Saidin and strung up Halvate by his wrists in the air. He then quickly stripped off his clothing, revealing his erect cock in all its glory. 

"One whole week I've been waiting for you to snap out of it and make love to me, to make me squirm and scream out your name as I ride your hard cock," Joran growled at Halvate's startled face. "I'm tired of playing your games. I'm bloody frustrated and I'm going to take your sorry ass right here and now."

Tying off the shackles of Air around Halvate's wrists, Joran then fashioned a quick weave of Water and Earth around his cock to lubricate it, and let go of Saidin. He grabbed Halvate's legs and hooked them up over his arms as he positioned Halvate's hole over his erect cock. 

"Call me master again and beg me for my cock," Joran challenged. 

Joran could feel Halvate's distaste spike through the bond as he responded with a dispassionate "Master please let me have your cock." It only made Joran angrier. With a snarl, Joran dropped Halvate onto his 11 inch hard rod. 

Halvate screamed as Joran's massive rod plunged in all the way to the hilt. Joran winced as his own hole twinged in pain from the bond. Blast, Joran had forgotten that the bond worked both ways unlike the a'dam. More gently this time, Joran lifted Halvate and thrust in again. 

"Blast you, Halvate," Joran spat out as he thrust in and out of Halvate's tight hole. "You clearly don't like being a slave. I don't want you as a slave. What is wrong with you?!" 

All his anger and frustration bottled up over the week spilled out as he thrust into the young man hanging in the air by his wrists. Through the bond, Joran could feel the damage he was causing to the recalcitrant youth's ass - at the same time, there was a sweet clenching inside everytime he thrust into Halvate. Before long, the pain had disappeared, leaving behind the exquisite shared pleasure in their cocks and asses.

Joran stared at Halvate, who had remained stoically silent, even though he was flushed and breathing hard from Joran's tool plunging away at his hole. Joran couldn't quite discern what emotions his one-time master was feeling. The bond was saturated with their shared pleasure, and as Joran picked up the pace, the bond literally hummed as pleasure started building up in their bodies.

"Blast it!" Seizing saidin, Joran released the shackles of Air and carried the smaller youth to the bed, where he dumped Halvate. Positioning himself between Halvate's legs, Joran thrust into Halvate again.

Halvate arched his back and gasped, but said nothing as he took the plowing like a soldier. Frustrated from the lack of response from Halvate, Joran pulled out and shook Halvate's shoulders roughly.

"What is wrong with you!" He shouted into Halvate's flinching face. "All I want is for you to be like the master who cuddled me when I was cold; the master who disciplined me when I was naughty; the master who Healed me when I was hurt. Not this - this sad travesty of a slave! I can tell you hate it!"

Joran collapsed beside the silent youth and said brokenly, "You're hurting me, Halvate."

There was silence for a long moment.

"Master." Halvate slowly sat up and knelt on the bed, his head again respectfully bowed. "May I have your permission to explain?"

Joran looked at Halvate, and sensed an undercurrent of sadness through the bond. Biting back a retort, Joran simply nodded his head.

"Go on."


	14. Chapter 14

It was a long moment before Halvate spoke. Joran's cock had long deflated by then, but he waited patiently for Halvate to speak.

"Damaro are considered little more than animals in Seandar. Like with dogs, it is considered shameful to have sex with damaro or damane.

"I lied when I told you that morul'dam might consider entering their damaro to grant them release. In truth, all you need is permission from the morul'dam and you would be able to obtain release with your own hand. It is shameful to engage in sexual acts with your damaro."

Joran opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when Halvate raised his palm. "You are the first damaro I have trained by myself. It was also the first time I was linked with a damaro without supervision. You see, a student of the a'dam must always be supervised when wearing the bracelet.

"I simply couldn't resist when we were alone in our room. You scream so beautifully and your body makes me heat up and my cock harden. I wanted to take you the instant I saw you, but I tried so hard to resist. You were all I could think about for so long, I don't know if you noticed that when you were naked you were always hard and dripping because of my own reaction to you. Everytime I adjusted myself in my pants you would feel it through the a'dam."

Joran drew in a sharp intake of breath. And he had thought that Halvate had been teasing him on purpose!

"That night, my original plan was to compel you to forget my role in your orgasm. Not many are able to do it, but I have exceptional skill with the a'dam. However your son interfered before I could do anything.

"When your son rescued you and took me along with you, I knew I only had two real choices. To die in honor, or to become da'covale. If I choose neither, I will bring shame to my name and family. But above all that, if it is known that I had become a lover to a marath'damaro, I will forever stain my family name and they will never be able to rise in their station.

"Master... please, I beg of you, do not make my situation worse than it already is. In the world today where everybody can Travel everywhere, news of my capture will surely have reached Seandar. If I am not da'covale, my family will suffer. As it is, I believe that soon there will be a Seanchan delegation demanding us to return as damaro."

Joran suddenly sat straight up. "What?!"

"Your son did not do any hopping or Skimming when he brought us back. He simply Travelled straight to the Black Tower. A skilled tracker can read the destination of the weave. I would expect the delegation to arrive today or tomorrow."

"That idiot!" Joran cried as he jumped out of bed and rushed to put on his clothes. "Light and ashes, I've got to tell the Storm Hand-"

"There is no need to. They are already here," a voice said dryly. Joran turned to find that his door was ajar and Storm Hand Aldurn who oversaw the trial standing in his doorway. "Dress yourself quickly and report to the Dragon Court." Aldurn turned and strode back through his gateway, which winked out the instant he was through.

"Bloody ashes, what am I going to do?"

\-------------------------------------------------------

The door creaked and cut off whatever the voice was saying as Joran hurried into the court, a naked Halvate following meekly behind him. The Dragon Court, unlike the spartan Storm Court, was the main reception area used to receive foreign dignitaries. As Joran entered the imposing hall, he felt a little humbled. Banners and drapes decorated the formidable black stone walls, and intricate designs carved onto the pillars and ceiling glistened as the sunlight streaming through the strained glass windows at the sides fell on them.

What was most imposing though was a huge tapestry hanging at the back wall behind the M'Hael's seat, a true marvel of art and the One Power combined. It was a moving reenactment of the Last Battle at the Fields of Merrilor, and standing in the forefront of it all, the Dragon Reborn, holding up Callandor which blazed like a pillar of light.

It was a reminder of the very purpose of the Asha'man and their origins, and the man who had cleansed Saidin so that male channelers would no longer go mad.

Joran took strength in Callandor's light and settled himself. He was an Asha'man, not a damaro, and he would not be collared again.

"I see you are indeed harboring our fugitives."

It was der'morul'dam Hido.

He was seated in a chair in front of the M'Hael's seat, accompanied by a collared damaro whom Joran didn't recognize and some Seanchan guards. The Seanchan der'morul'dam stuck out sorely amongst the black-robed Asha'man in his blue morul'dam tunic and the silver a'dam between his damaro and him. He stared at the two of them dispassionately as they entered.

Joran felt a frisson of fear as the memory of his whipping swam back into mind. Unlike Halvate's punishments with the a'dam, Joran had truly feared for his cock when Hido had thrashed it with his bull whip.

He swallowed hard and mastered his fear. He was not collared now, but Joran surreptitiously touched his neck just to be sure.

"They are not fugitives," Aldurn explained patiently. He was seated facing Hido, and a small section of Asha'man behind him. Joran recognized his son and Marvin amongst them, and smiled. They would have his back for sure. "Joran has always been an Asha'man and has recently taken on Halvate as a warder. Under the Dragon's Peace, you are not allowed to capture any channelers on this side of the continent."

"Under the Dragon's Peace," Hido retorted, "You are also obligated to return all Seanchan channelers. Both of them are Seanchan channelers." He eyed the naked Halvate critically with a frown, although he did not comment. 

"Halvate does not channel, and cannot be counted as a channeler. Joran is evidently not Seanchan nor Seanchan-raised."

Hido raised his eyebrows. "He does not channel?" He pointed at the kneeling Halvate.

"No, he is Joran's da'covale and as far as I know has not learned how to touch Saidin." Aldurn turned to Joran. "Joran, do you confirm?"

Joran nodded and said respectfully, "Yes Storm Hand." There was a flux of emotions from Halvate, but Joran ignored it.

Hido appeared flummoxed for a moment, but shook himself and produced another a'dam from his robe. The atmosphere grew foreboding as every Asha'man in the room glared at the hated object in disgust.

Hido continued blithely, "Then I'm sure you do not refuse that I test Halvate myself. After all I cannot just take your word for it."

Aldurn's face grew cold. "I am the Storm Hand of the Water Brigade in the Court of Generals in the Black Tower, second-in-command to the M'Hael himself. How dare you suggest that I'm lying?"

Joran shivered as the air around Aldurn grew even heavier and more menacing. It wasn't the Power - it was just simply his presence. Joran could tell that Hido was a little cowed but he did an impressive job of hiding it.

"I still need to check for myself," Hido stated adamantly.

Aldurn glanced at Joran, who shrugged. Joran couldn't even get Halvate to wear some clothes, much less try to learn to channel.

"Fine," Aldurn concurred. "But only to check. We will free him afterwards."

Hido looked at Halvate expectantly and tapped his feet. "Come here, Halvate."

Halvate shot Joran a hesitant look before he crawled forward. Joran felt a stab of helplessness as he watched the naked Halvate crawl across the room under the eyes of everyone. He wanted to kick Halvate and ask him to walk proudly like a man, but after his explanation just now Joran thought he understood the Seanchan a bit more now. Blast the Seanchan and their inhuman ways!

When Halvate reached the der'morul'dam, he got to his knees and bared his neck. Joran could feel fear in Halvate through their bond, and shivered in sympathy. 

Hido closed the a'dam around Halvate's neck. "Assume the Void."

There was quiet for a moment, before Hido's face fell. "You cannot sense the Source." Joran felt an inexplicable sense of relief wash through Halvate. 

A weave of air wrapped around the a'dam and popped it open. It was Aldurn who had released the a'dam. 

"That's enough. You have confirmed that he cannot channel. He is Joran's property and will remain with him. Are you quite done now?"

Hido drew himself up and replied haughtily, "I would like a word in private with these two before I go."

Aldurn looked about to bite off an impatient retort, but Joran, sensing the hopeful yearning within Halvate, interrupted. "Storm Hand, please allow us this moment."

Aldurn shot Joran a searching look and sighed. He nodded his head. "I indulge you too much Joran, use an alcove to the right. But alone. That means no guards and no damaro." He gave the cowering damaro a distasteful glance.

Hido nodded stiffly and unclasped the bracelet from his wrist, handing it to his damaro. He strode over confidently to an alcove that was slightly recessed so that they were still in view of Aldurn, but far away enough that they had some privacy. Joran and Halvate had no choice but to follow the stout der'morul'dam. 

"Guard us against eavesdropping, Joran," Hido barked when they reached the alcove. Joran, surprised that he would use his real name, complied. 

"It's done."

"Good. What I'm going to say now is not going to be repeated ever, not to anyone. Am I clear?"

Joran nodded warily. Even though Joran had spent the better part of a day being lashed and whipped by this harsh taskmaster, he didn't really know Hido that well.

"First, Halvate has already touched the Source before."

Joran gasped. He glared at Halvate, who looked down at the floor in shame.

"It was while you were giving lessons to the new recruits, master. I couldn't help it, I was so angry. It was only for an instant, but..."

Joran tried to recall when that was. Since his rescue, he had been given a week of rest before he had been assigned some boring classes with recruits to "get his gears moving." But he hadn't taught many of them.

Then he recalled one afternoon where the recruits had been making snide comments about Halvate's nakedness. Joran recalled blowing up at them and assigning them chores in the stables. He didn't realize that Halvate had overheard.

"So you're going to take him back as a damaro?" Once someone had touched the Source, he would keep on touching it until it consumed him. There was no going back now for Halvate.

Hido shook his head. "No. I am going to report that Halvate has been made da'covale and that you had disappeared."

Joran stared at the der'morul'dam in slackjawed surprise. He could feel Halvate mirroring his shock. "Why?"

Hido looked away, silent. It was Halvate who spoke.

"You can also channel," Halvate said with certainty. He sounded betrayed.

Hido sighed. "You guessed right, young Halvate. How did you know?"

"It was just a hunch... there was a faint resonance when you put the a'dam on me. It was faint, but it felt like those of damaro..."

Hido chuckled. "You are really a master of the a'dam, my boy. In my forty years of wielding the a'dam nobody has ever told me he felt a resonance in me before." 

"But I don't understand..." Halvate choked out. "Wh- how?"

Hido shook his head. "It was pure foolishness on my part. A foolishness of love..."

Joran and Halvate remained silent, waiting for Hido to explain.

"Twenty years ago, I fell in love with an Asha'man while traveling the world. He could tell I was a morul'dam, but since I was not in Seanchan territories and had no a'dam, I was of no threat to him. We lived together for a month, arguing about the a'dam by day and being intimate by night. One day, while he was trying to show me the benefits of an angreal, I suddenly felt a resonance and found myself tumbling in the rapid torrent that is Saidin.

"He helped me control Saidin, and there was no going back after that. Till now I do not know why I resonated that day, but he was convinced it was because I secretly wanted to channel. I had no arguments for that. But I knew I had to return to Seandar and turn myself in as a damaro.

"He stopped me and convinced me to train under him to show that the a'dam is not necessary. Of course by 'convinced', I meant he tied me up and made slow love to me until I caved. In the period of a month, I learned how to control Saidin and make simple weaves. By then, all that I thought I knew about the a'dam had been overthrown.

"When I insisted on returning to Seandar, he made a pact with me. He would implement a retraining policy for all captured morul'dam in the Black Tower, and I would work to free the collared Westlanders sold in the black market."

Joran gasped in recognition. "Aldurn!"

Hido nodded. "We had a pact for all these years... so now you understand why."

Joran shared a look of shock with Halvate. He would never have guessed from their previous exchange that the two knew each other, much less have a pact to save the collared channelers and captured morul'dam. 

Joran still had a point he didn't understand. "But you whipped me so hard I thought you were going to cut off my cock. How was that to free me?"

Hido shook his head sadly. "I had to. You were already surrendering to the a'dam and losing yourself. I had to make you doubt your decision to submit. Besides, I knew that Halvate would get you Healed. His attraction to you was obvious. Which was also why I had to engineer your escape as soon as possible, because you were going to get Halvate into trouble. Do you honestly think it is so easy to infiltrate a Seanchan compound with hundreds of channelers? I had to suppress the gateway alarm in Halvate's room, or else your son would have also been captured."

Joran looked at Hido and felt a wave of gratitude fill in him. "I don't know what to say..."

Halvate knelt down and bent over to press his forehead against the ground. "I owe you my life, der'morul'dam Hido. I am sorry I doubted you before."

Hido knelt down and lifted Halvate up. "It is no trouble. The a'dam is hurting the Empire more than it helps, and I am always glad to see another discover the joys of Channeling. You have a strong Talent for the mind arts, it would be a pity for it to go to waste. I will report to your family that you have been made da'covale and have your name struck from their records. Whatever you do from now on will have no bearing on their status."

Hido glanced at Joran before continuing, "And one more thing, Halvate. You may be da'covale, but not da'covale to a Seanchan. Let your master decide how you should live your life. If it's one thing I learnt from Aldurn, it is that these Westlanders do not have any appreciation for Seanchan traditions." He winked at Halvate. "And I also think that he is jealous of sharing your body with everybody who can see it."

"Hey!" Joran retorted without any heat. In truth, he was grateful for Hido's advice. Hopefully Halvate would take it to heart and return to his normal self.

"I will, der'morul'dam." A tear ran down Halvate's cheeks as the two men hugged. Joran stood by awkwardly as he watched, feeling Halvate's emotions come to a boil. In time, the two Seanchan separated, and Hido shook Joran's hand gruffly.

"Take care of young Halvate, he will need guidance in your ways. He is only a young man, stubborn in his thinking, but fragile all the same. But I think you already know that."

Joran smiled wryly and nodded his head.

"One last thing. If you come across another morul'dam or collared Westlander who needs help, do not hesitate to lend a hand. It would make Aldurn's and my work all the more worthwhile if you pay it forward."

"I- we will, der'morul'dam," Joran said, his voice thickening with emotion. Next to him, Halvate got to his feet and took Joran's hand. He gave Joran a squeeze of affection, making Joran burst with happiness.

"Let's go back and face my lover, shall we? By the Empress, he has got some impressive acting skills," Hido chuckled as he led the way out. "I think I can look forward to a good pounding tonight."

Joran only smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

"Did you know your warder bond is a two-way bond?"

Joran blinked. "Yes. I can feel your emotions and you can feel mine. Our sensations are also shared it seems."

They were lying together in bed, getting ready for sleep, Halvate's naked body cuddled against Joran's own hairy one. Joran ran a hand down Halvate's smooth chest, tickling his tight, golden-yellow skin and feeling the frissons rebound through the bond. He ran a finger in circles over Halvate's nipple and smiled as both of them sucked in a breath.

"Like this."

"No, master," Halvate said testily as he pulled Joran's hand away. Despite the concessions Joran had managed to extract from Halvate regarding what constituted proper da'covale behavior for the Westlands, calling him "Master" was something that Halvate had adamantly refused to change. "Stop distracting me."

"I want you to be distracted."

"Argh, fine, it's probably easier to show you." Halvate concentrated and commanded, "Pinch your nipples."

With a gasp, Joran felt a twisting in his mind and felt his hands go to his own nipples of their own accord. He stopped himself just before he gave himself a crushing pinch.

"What was that?!"

Halvate looked at him soberly. "The two-way bond. Didn't you know your warder bond had an element of Compulsion?"

Joran goggled at Halvate in disbelief. "Yes, but it doesn't work with channelers. And the Compulsion is supposed to be one-way. From me to you."

"No, it's two-way. Although channelers can stop themselves if they're strong enough. Like you just did."

"Bloody ashes," Joran swore as a thrill of excitement shot through him. "You can Compel me to dance naked in the streets?"

"You want to dance naked in the streets?" Halvate asked, lust filling his eyes.

"No! Just a stupid question. Don't you dare get any ideas!" Joran scolded.

"Don't worry, if you want to dance naked in the streets I will do it with you," Halvate teased.

"Ugh, stop it!" Joran pinched Halvate's nipple hard, feeling the excitement rebound on him. "I am your master and you will not Compel me to dance in the streets."

"Yes master," Halvate said, grinning. "Anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of this." He reached down and grabbed Joran's semi-hard cock. "I can Compel you not to come no matter how much you want to, unless I give you permission."

Joran's heart thumped in excitement as he recalled the last time he was bound in chastity by the a'dam. "Light," Joran breathed, his voice suddenly rough with lust.

"Oh yeah, you like it, don't you master? To have your boy control your monster cock and have it hard and dripping and unable to come?" Halvate's silky baritone whispered. His light blue eyes darkened with lust into blue-green orbs as he stared into Joran's eyes.

"Light," Joran panted as a thrill of lust shot straight to his groin. His traitorous cock had immediately stiffened to full mast in Halvate's hand, and dribbled a bit of slime onto Halvate's body. Ever since Hido had left and Halvate had conceded to behave like a normal person, his original mind-blowing orgasm while riding Halvate's cock was all he could think of. 

"Oh yeah, I can tell you like it. But you'll need to accept it in your heart and body for the Compulsion to stick. If you do that, then even if you change your mind, only I can release the Compulsion. You'd be forever at my mercy."

"Oh Light," Joran moaned as his cock jerked. A long lifetime of chastity, his hard cock unable to come and dripping with need. It was all Joran could do not to spurt that very moment.

"I'll be so tough that your nuts will be so full of seed and your cock aching so hard that you'd beg to do anything to have release," Halvate promised silkily as he ran a finger up Joran's eleven inch erection.

"Unghh," Joran groaned as he pumped out another dribble of slime. "Blazes Halvate, you make me so hard..."

"Do you remember how sweetly you begged me for release?"

Joran whimpered as the memories of that feverish night filled his mind.

"Do you accept?"

Joran stared deeply into Halvate's blue-green eyes, his heart thumping with excitement and hesitation. Through the bond, he could feel Halvate's dark thrill and exhilaration, but underneath all that he could also feel Halvate's deep affection that he had come to recognize as love. In that moment, Joran made up his mind. "Bloody ashes, yes, master, take my manhood and make it yours."

"Alright," Halvae said as he kissed Joran gently. "Accept my Compulsion and let it suffuse through your whole body," Halvate commanded. Joran gasped as he felt the twisting in his mind again, except this time he didn't fight it and allowed it to encompass his own body. When it ended, Joran didn't feel any different.

"Did it work?" Joran asked, frowning. 

"Why don't we check?" Halvate asked teasingly as he ran his palm all over Joran's sensitive head.

"Ahhh!" Joran stiffened his back and moaned as his sensitive glans were stimulated.

"Light, I forgot the bond is two-way," Halvate breathed heavily as he sucked in a breath. "I'm not going to be able to test without shooting my seed."

Joran's traitorious cock twitched as he imagined Halvate's orgasm coursing through him even as his own body denied him his own. "Plow my ass, master, make me beg for release," Joran said as he dribbled even more slime from his cock. He spread his legs as Halvate got up and bent over him.

"You called me master twice," Halvate said amusedly as he aimed his own erection at Joran's hole. 

"Oh yeah, in bed you can be my master," Joran said, smiling as he ran his hands over Halvate's tight, muscular chest. "I'll be your big hulking slave, helplessly begging you to fuck me senseless." He gently kneaded Halvate's nipples, feeling his own harden in response to the shared stimulation. "Master, make me scream, please."

"You have your wish, my slave," Halvate growled as he thrust into Joran's tight hole. Joran gasped as shared pleasure jolted his cock and ass. He could hear Halvate breathing hard as he rammed his stiff pole in and out. Light, this would never get old.

Joran reached a hand to his hard and dripping cock, feeling a strange relief that he was able to touch his own cock without zapping it brutally. He took himself in his hand and started pumping it, making both of them gasp in pleasure.

"If you continue that you'll make me come," Halvate growled as he slapped Joran's hand away. Joran felt a thrill as Halvate took his hands and locked it above his head, then leaned in to kiss him deeply. Joran loved it so much when the younger boy got all dominant on him.

"Mnngh," Joran groaned as Halvate plundered his mouth and tongue. With every plunge of Halvate's rod, Joran could feel the sweetness clenching deep inside him even as his own cock jerked in sympathetic pleasure. He could feel the pleasure mounting for both of them, rapidly approaching a fever pitch as Halvate rammed his ass harder and harder. 

"Beg me," Halvate commanded, his silky baritone rumbling against Joran's body.

"Unggh! Master! Make me come, please!" Joran cried out in desire as Halvate brutalized his ass. "Ahh, yes, master, harder!"

"Oh yes, my slave, my handsome, muscular, slave, beg me!"

"Master! Please!"

With a grunt, Joran felt Halvate stiffen against him, and then threw his head back and howled as Halvate's climax blasted through the bond, surging through his taut body and his own quivering cock as he felt Halvate unload spurt after spurt of his man seed inside his ass.

"Oh Light, that felt so good," Halvate groaned as he pulled his deflating erection out of Joran's ass, his seed dribbling out of Joran's well-used hole.

Joran whimpered in frustration as Halvate collapsed onto him. Halvate's hot sweaty body frotted against Joran's own furry skin as he laid his head down on Joran's chest.

"Master, I need to come," Joran begged plaintively. He could feel Halvate's post-climax afterglow, but if anything it only made Joran quiver even more with frustration. His cock was so hard it was throbbing with pain.

Halvate raised his head and gave Joran an amused smile. "You didn't come?"

"Bloody ashes, master, stop torturing me, please."

Halvate gave Joran a dark smile which made Joran clench his cock in excitement. "Oh yeah, it definitely worked," Halvate drawled as he ran his hand down Joran's swollen shaft, making Joran arch his back and whimper in frustration.

"I think I've just found my favorite toy," Halvate said as he pumped Joran's hard cock slowly. Joran squirmed and moaned as Halvate slowly edged his cock, causing streams of slime to burble from his slit. He could feel Halvate's spike of sadistic pleasure through the bond as Joran writhed.

"Master," Joran sobbed in a suffering tone. "Faster, please..."

"Oh no, my muscular slave, I don't think so. I really like you like this, all hard and suffering. And you know what, this is even better than the a'dam. With this, not even my touch can get you to come now - your body has removed its ability to trigger your orgasm unless I give you permission. Who knows, maybe you'll get to come next month?"

Joran whimpered at the thought of being swollen with need for an entire month. He gasped as his cock clenched and pulled at his nuts painfully.

"And you like it so much, don't you," Halvate teased as he ran a finger over Joran's slimy cockhead, making Joran groan. "Imagine, I get to suck you off and tease your poor, massive rod, and meanwhile you're going crazy, all helpless and unable to come no matter what I do. And the best part is, you even get to feel my orgasm as I spurt all over your own aching cock, with no pleasure of your own."

A helpless whimper escaped Joran's throat as his frustration mounted.

"Well, too bad. It's late and if we don't wake up in time for morning muster we'll be spanked by Marvin. I'm not sure you want your big stiff Asha'man cock bouncing in front of all the recruits as you get your bubble butt spanked."

Joran growled as he turned over and pinned the smaller boy below his own bulk. "Oh yes, master, you'd like to see me, all big and hulking, getting my ass spanked in front of all the recruits, don't you? You know, you may not let me come, but don't forget the bond is also two-way. You'll be feeling my frustration all day long. I won't be the only one hard and dripping."

Joran smiled as the ramifications of his chastity dawned on Halvate's face.

"Ready for another round now?" Joran asked impishly as he spread Halvate's legs apart and teased his tight boyish hole with his swollen erection. "My turn to make you whimper and writhe in sweet ecstasy." He gently eased his monstrous erection between Halvate's bubble cheeks, and sighed in satisfaction as Halvate's warm cherry tickled his glans.

"I guess we'll just both be squirming in pain tomorrow morning, our rockhard erections waving in the recruits' faces when Marvin spanks our bare asses," Joran said playfully.

Halvate could only gasp and hold on for dear life as Joran plunged in.

\---------The End-----------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it. I knew I wanted to write about enslaved channelers after reading the Wheel of Time, but I made several drafts of the first chapter and the storylines just kinda petered out. This draft started out quite strongly, and I wrote the first 5 chapters in one sitting, but then I had a lot of trouble continuing. It's funny how stories work - I wrote the chapter on Hido whipping Joran with the goal of some epic battle and escape in mind, but in the end it was way too much trouble to write about some epic Seanchan vs Black Tower fight. Still, I thought the story wrapped up nicely - there are one or two teasers that I couldn't quite fit into the story (like how Halvate got his scars and what happened to Kieran in the end) but oh well, it's not particular hard to imagine. 
> 
> So that's it for this story, hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> -Kylix


End file.
